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At some point, I stop trying to concentrate on my surroundings and just trust my friends to figure out what we need to do and where we need to go.
Finally, I’m able to lie down. But it’s not a bed. My legs are bent, and I’m moving. Swaying, as whatever I’m lying on jerks around. I can hear Sammy, but it doesn’t sound like he’s talking to Jasper.
I’m in a car. I’m sprawled across the backseat.
It’s embarrassing how long these facts take to register. At least, it would be embarrassing in a normal situation where I don’t hurt so bad that my brain wants to run out my nose like water.
“We’re five minutes out. Do you have Holly’s number, or do you want me to call her?”
Holly. Holly. I miss Holly.
But no. Don’t call her.
“Why would I call Holly?” My mom’s voice sounds strange. Tiny and distant.
Is she in the car?
“Well”—Sammy’s voice is much clearer than my mom’s—“because they’re dating.”
“They’re dating?” Her words crackle and hurt my ears.
Sammy is on the phone with my mom.
“Um, yeah. So, I guess I’ll be the one calling her.”
Don’t call Holly.
My head pounds so loud that I don’t know if I spoke.
“Ben?”
“Uhhhng.”
“Did you bring your phone?”
“Here. I have her number.” Jasper is here.
I crack my eyes open and see them sitting in the front seat of my car, Jasper handing Sammy his phone.
For a moment, a slice of clarity cracks through my pain-addled brain.
“Don’t.” My hand weakly tries to bat at the phone being passed. “Don’t call Holly.”
Before my eyes close, Sammy turns to meet them with his own bewildered ones. “Why not?”
“Please. Don’t.”
Then, I pass out.
HOLLY
I check my phone again. A selfie of me kissing Ben’s cheek while he makes a goofy face at the camera stares up at me.
Just that, no texts or missed calls.
There’s an itch, not a real one, just one in my brain, demanding I call him again. But I fight it because two unanswered texts and one voice mail are plenty to let Ben know that I’ve been trying to get in touch with him.
Still, it’s weird. I haven’t heard from him in over a day.
