And then, I promptly blacked out.
5
BLAKE
POST-GRADUATION, MAY 2017, AGE 18
When I finally regained consciousness, I didn’t know how much time had passed.
But I instantly knew where I was.
I’d spent so many nights crashing on the Barrows’ couch, long before they’d invited me to sleep in the spare room. The offer had warmed me, but I rarely made it up the stairs. It was hard to explain to them why I preferred the couch, but I did.
Even lumpy in odd places, on nights when I’d been too lazy to pull out the sofa bed beneath the cushions, it felt like a dream compared to waking up in my father’s house.
Stretching my arms and legs as gently as I could, I released thoughts of him with the tension in my limbs. I inhaled deeply, breathing in a scent I associated with comfort—love—before wondering if I’d overslept.
If so, Mrs. B would come along in a minute totskat me about there being a perfectly good guest room upstairs. She didn’t see it either—why I always slept on the couch.
I wanted to get up and help make breakfast.
Sighing happily, still caught somewhere between sleep and awake, I mumbled, “The early worm gets the bird.”
An unmistakable chuckle came from beside me.
I opened my eyes, searching for the sound. Or rather, I opened myeye. One of them felt like it had been glued shut.
Addie appeared, her hair falling forward as she tried to hide her quiet laughter. “That's not quite how the saying goes. I should check with Mom. See if this is a bad sign.”
“What goes how now?”
“Oh, boy.” She eased off the couch and knelt beside my head, bringing something cold up to my cheek. “Could be a stroke. Stick your arms out and sing happy birthday.”
I stuck my arms straight up in the air, and I rattled off a verse of “Happy Birthday to You” until I earned myself a big smile.
Addie pressed the ice pack against my swollen cheekbone, easing off when I winced.
My hand covered hers, holding it to my face and silently letting her know I could take the pain.
“I’m so glad you’re alright.” She exhaled a heavy breath, brushing the hair off my forehead. “You had us all worried sick. Even Mom wanted to take you to the hospital instead of taking care of you here.”
“I deserved it.” When her eyes snapped to mine, I reached up to grab her other hand, pulling it to my chest. “For what I said to you. It’s not your fault you’re—It’s not your fault if some douchebag disrespects you.”
She sniffed, making a show of lifting her chin. “I know it’s not.”
“I never want to be the voice in your head telling you it is.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, tension easing at my admission, and she gave me a lopsided smile. “Yes, well. While that was certainly an unfortunate way to start my eighteenth birthday, I finally calmed down enough to hear Adam out. We were almost home when he told me what Travis had said.”
She shrugged, putting on a brave face, but her lower lip trembled with the truth.
My words had hurt her. Deeply.
And I needed to make that right.
I tightened my grip on her hand. “No matter what Travis said or did,Ishouldn’t have said what I did to you. It was wrong, and…I’m really sorry, Addie.”
She returned it with a gentle squeeze. “I could’ve heard you out before I jumped down your throats. And you certainly didn’t deserve to have that asshole and his friends blindside you on your way home. God. I could kill them for leaving you like that, practically for dead.”
