“Yosh…” Erin’s voice sounds full of shock. “What happened?”
She scans the room, still holding my shoulder, she helps me up off the floor and guides me to my bedroom.
I sit on the edge of the bed, her beside me. Her eyes never leave me. I can feel her studying the cuts on my arms, my shoulder, the blood dripping from my neck.
Her face drains of color.
“What did you do…?”
I can’t answer. I can’t even look at her. I bury my head in my hands, shake it slowly.
“You were lucky,” Erin says. “One shard in your carotid artery and you would’ve bled out.”
I sob.I know that.
Shame creeps in. I don’t know what to say. God, I feel so terrible.
“Tell me what happened. Are you taking your meds as you should?”
I don’t want to answer. Except Erin’s not just my friend, she’s also my psychiatrist. I know I have to, so I try.
“Yesterday, at SeaBreeze, someone spiked my drink. I’m positive it was Terrence. I got sick. Tom had to drive me back to Arcadia. We drove my car into a ditch, spent the night on the beach.”
Erin stays quiet, letting me talk.
“Tom…he got into a fight with the guards. He did it to swap our cups so I wouldn’t test positive.”
I tell her everything. Everything except that Tom and I spent the weekend together. That part I keep to myself.
“And just now, I started seeing things again. From before. It’s wrong, Erin. Every nerve in my body is screaming for painkillers. I think I’m slipping.”
The words stumble out, broken and messy.
“Please help me.” Tears stream uncontrollably down my face. “I don’t know what to do.”
Erin throws her arms around me. I let myself fall into her embrace.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetie.” Her fingers stroke my hair. “You did good by telling me right away. We’ll handle this outside Arcadia, okay?”
That confuses me. “What do you mean?”
“You’re coming to stay with Laurent and me for a couple of days. It’s going to be hard, but we need to tackle this intensively. It’s the only way.”
I nod. I don’t want Tom to see me like this. That fear alone grips me harder than the pain itself.
What if this is all too much for him?
What if I’m too much?
I need to pull myself together or I won’t be able to be with him.
I wipe the last of my tears from my face.
Meanwhile, Erin pulls the first-aid kit from my cupboard.
“Where’s Tom?” I ask.
Erin dips a cotton ball in water, cleaning the wounds on my neck. I keep my eyes on her, refusing to look away until she answers. Eventually, she realizes I’m not letting this go.
