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“Normally I make the house calls, however, Rome mentioned this couldn’t wait a minute longer. He’s very persuasive.”
“That he is,” Elodie says, the smile fading from her face the second her eyes lock with mine.
I’m not sure why she’s giving me the cold shoulder. We’re here because I’m trying to help her. Well, I’m actually trying to determine who the snake is that drugged a girl at a high school party, but it helps her nonetheless.
Dr. Lamont leads us into his office where he has a medical bag open on a small table. Beside it is a sharps container and a box of gloves.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” he instructs Elodie by waving toward a chair next to the table. He prepares the needle and vial, then fastens a rubber tourniquet around her upper arm.
“Rome,” Elodie says softly. I lift my eyebrows, questioning her. “I’m scared of needles.”
“You have a tattoo. How are you scared of needles?”
Dr. Lamont stands there for a moment, assessing us both to make sure she’s ready to do this.
With no choice in the matter, if we wanna know the truth, I go to her side and crouch down. My chest tightens as I reach out and hold her hand. It’s small and delicate—a perfect fit in mine. I hate how the look in her eyes reminds me so much of my mother’s when she would hold our hand during blood draws.
She takes a deep, shaky breath, and I mirror her, squeezing her hand tighter in reassurance.
“Are you ready?” Dr. Lamont asks her, and she responds with a nod.
“Look at me,” I tell her.
As I meet her gaze, my heart races. Her piercing blue eyes seem to look right through me, but at the same time, I’m looking through hers. She’s scared—not just of the needle, but of the uncertainty of her future. Despite our conflicts, it’s as if all the resentment and anger washes away and we’ve found common ground.
Her body shakes slightly as the needle glides into her vein and I place my other hand over the top of hers while rubbing my thumb across her delicate skin. I’m not sure why I do it, but it seems to offer her a sense of calm. She closes her eyes as her grip relaxes and something in my chest shifts.
It’s as if I don’t want this moment to end. Feeling needed is something I didn’t realize I was missing until now. I want to hold on to it.
“All done,” Dr. Lamont exclaims. “You did great, Elodie.”
He keeps talking, but I don’t hear anything he says. I’m stuck in this moment.
Then, Elodie pulls her hand away so fast you’d think she felt a zap of electricity.
Or maybe it was only me who felt it.
I stand up while Dr. Lamont tells me he’ll call in a couple days. After I thank him, we leave.
The ride home is quiet. For the first time in a while, I have nothing to say to Elodie. Or maybe I’m worried if I speak, I’ll lose all the leverage I’ve gained because I don’t have the energy to be cruel right now.
So instead, we drive in silence, and before long, Elodie’s fast asleep.
Every couple minutes, I steal a glance at her, noticing that she’s not snoring like she was last night. But her nostrils still flare slightly and a light sheen of sweat builds on her brow. She’s got a cute nose, and when the sun hits it just right, her freckles look reddish brown. She looks peaceful—more peaceful than I’ve ever seen her. I’m partially to blame for that. The girl is so high-strung and defensive. With reason, I suppose.
I want to hate her. I really do. But when I see her like this, in perfect form—so vulnerable—I’m not sure how that’s possible.
Once I’m parked in the garage, I turn my car off and pull out my phone to scroll through SnapTok so she can sleep a little longer. Because when she wakes up, she’ll be the enemy again. And I’m not ready for that just yet.
CHAPTER 17
ELODIE
Rome has been unusually quiet the last couple days. Ever since we went to Dr. Lamont’s house three days ago, something seems different about him.
A minute ago, I passed by him in the parking lot, and he didn’t even say anything cruel. Just side-eyed me and kept talking with Luke and Aiden. I don't dare let my guard down, though, because when I least expect it, I know he’ll bite.
“Hey!” I shout, picking up my pace as I approach my open locker. “What the hell are you doing?”
