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“All right, that’s it. You’re getting up.”
Bright sunlight smacked me in the eyes as my weighted blanket was ripped away. I shriveled into a ball against the sudden bout of freezing air.
“What the hell!” I rasped, squinting up at my attacker. The complaint grated against the sandpaper coating my throat. “Close the window! It’s like minus ten out!”
“Get in the bath,” Jamie ordered with a bossy snap of her fingers. She pointed at the door. “Now.”
“Why haven’t you left for work yet?” I grumbled, pulling the tip of my fleece hood down to shield my eyes.
“Ria, it’s almost six p.m. Work started ten hours ago. I just got back.”
“Oh,” I said. “Almost bedtime, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I grabbed the edge of my blanket again and rolled it on top of me. Then I curled my knees back up to my chest, shut my eyes, and let the fuzzy darkness consume—
Something gripped my ankle and yanked.
I kicked, trying to get her to let go. “Stop that,” I demanded.
“Absolutely fucking not. I’ve given you ten days to mope. It’s more than enough.” She was using both her arms now.
“Why are you doing this?” I whined, scrambling for purchase against the bed sheets as my body was slowly pulled from the mattress. I managed to hook my fingers around the edge of the bed frame but didn’t have the strength to hold on for longer than a few seconds.
“Because you’d do the same for me,” Jamie responded as I belly flopped onto the carpet with a dull groan. “Though you wouldn’t be nearly as nice about it.”
And then my—officiallyformer—best friend dumped an entire fucking pitcher of ice water right on top of my head.
I gasped as the shock of the cold pierced my skin, my spine bolting upright as my mouth hung entirely open.
“You didnotjust do that to—Jamie! Holy shit—stop!”
She was holding the second pitcher above me like a madwoman, the spout tilted just enough to be a threat.
“Have you eaten anything today?” she asked, frowning down at me like I was a misbehaving school child.
I peeled my soaked hood away from my hair as the gears in my brain groaned to stiff motion, trying to figure out what the hell had gotten into her. “I just woke up,” I said.
Her eyes thinned. “When was the last time you drank water? Or took a shower?”
Was she fucking serious?
“Literally right now. You just—okayokayokayokay!” I held up my hands, surrendering as the spout tipped far enough for a thin stream of water to escape. “God, relax. I’ll drink some fucking water.”
What the hell was wrong with her? My whole carpet was soaked.
I hauled to my feet, vaguely aware of how much genuine effort it took. My muscles were weirdly sore, my knees more unsteady than I remembered them usually being.
I dragged my feet all the way to the kitchen, poured myself a small glass of water, and forced it down even though it tasted like bitter, liquid sand.
“Happy?” I snapped. The glass cup hit the bottom of the sink with a much more dramaticclankthan I’d intended, but I wasn’t sorry about it.
Jamie ignored my small tantrum as she ripped a large plastic garbage bag from its roll and proceeded to march right back to my room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded to know.
I felt a little out of breath as I trailed after her. I swiped a bunch of wet hair away from my eyes and forehead as Jamie got to work, grabbing empty cans, bottles, and clothing off the floor.
“Seriously, what are you doing?” I asked again.
