Page 24 of Revenant

“Can you stop moving so much?” Moriah mumbles, attempting to whack me with her limp hand.

“Can you not talk so much?” I fire back, any other retort getting smothered by the pounding in my head. “What time is it?”

Moriah groans, fumbling around the table next to her, not bothering to look up. Something falls to the floor, but she clearly doesn’t care. Her migraine must be nonexistent. Finally, her fingers wrap around the clock, and she lets gravity bring it down to her half-hooded eyes. Fake sobs fill the room. “Only eight thirty.”

“How is that possible?” I grumble, attempting to rub the sleep from my eyes. Class started a whopping thirty minutes ago, and I would rather miss it completely than rush and walk in late. Again. God, my professors probably hate me. Whose bright idea was it to have a party on a school night?

A few beats pass without her replying, and in the silence everything from last night crashes back into me like a tidal wave. I jolt upright, teeth clenching as pain throbs behind my eyes, radiating through my temples hard enough to make my vision blur. “Hey.” I shake her leg. “Moriah.”

“What?” she snaps. “What do you want?” Okay, party Moriah? Fun. Morning after Moriah? Not so much.

“What was all that about? At the party?”

“All what, Alicent? We just woke up for fuck’s sake.”

“The bonfire,” I reiterate. “Everyone leaving all because Pryce said so?” The more I think about it, the more I can’t believe I didn’t question it then. Sure, I was wasted, but that’s not a real excuse. Why did we all leave? The question ricochets in my skull, my two functioning brain cells working overtime. There’s a memory trying to claw its way through the static. “Moriah!” I gasp. “The scream! Did anyone check on that girl? See if she was okay? I can’t believe we just left!”

The faint memory of Reyna’s body in the quad surfaces before I can stop it. The dream blurring the details until I can’t swear to any of them. It wasn’t real. Right? Every reasonable part of me says no, but this isn’t the first time. In the weeks before my parents died, I’d wake in the fields outside our house, barefoot and shivering, drawn there by the sound of my name. It stopped when I lost them. And now that it’s followed me here, I can’t make myself believe it’s a coincidence. But if my dream was real…how did I end up back in Moriah’s room?

Moriah sits up abruptly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And you’re talking too much, too fast for someone—might I remind you—who just told me to stop talking.”

I ignore her very valid point, my mind snagging on what she just said. “You’re telling me you don’t remember the party?”

“Of course I remember the party! I was there! I also remember you getting drunk and needing me to take you home.” She crosses her arms as if that settles it.

But it doesn’t. Not even close. I came here after Pryce walked me to my dorm. I didn’t want to deal with Reyna and, selfishly, I didn’t want the night to end because one person said so.

I thought I would just hang out with Moriah until I had the courage to go back, but…I must’ve fallen asleep. None of this is making a lick of sense, and I’m severely lacking in the caffeine department to even pretend to understand any of it. How are we both remembering the same night, but with two completely different outcomes?

Before I can fire off more questions, the sweet sound of her snoring fills the room.

We’ll circle back to this later.

Maybe all the beast needs is coffee. Then she’ll turn back into the beautiful princess I’ve come to know and love. I’m fairly certain there’s a small campus coffee shop close by…unless I hallucinated that too. Taking one for the team, I throw the blanket off—and immediately regret it. I never changed out of last night’s clothes. Which means there’s a high probability my face didn’t get washed either.

I don’t bother grabbing my shoes, knowing they’re more of a hassle than they’re worth right now, and steal a pair of Moriah’s slippers. After grabbing my keys, I search for my phone but come up empty and decide to leave it since it’s probably dead anyways. I pull open the door and freeze, my feet firmly cemented to the floor.

There are a lot of things I could’ve predicted to see on the other side of the door. Balloons, flowers, a cake…a polar bear on a tricycle. But Pryce holding not one, but two coffees, wasn’t one of them.

It’s like he materialized straight out of my thoughts.

Despite the stupid flips my stomach does at the mere sight of him, I’m still apprehensive. Memories from last night continue to filter through, and I try my best to shove them down. I need time to piece everything together—figure out what’s real and what my brain decided to improvise.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” I manage.

“Thought you two could use a pick me up.” My shoulders slump. He really is thoughtful. One nice gesture and a soft smile, and suddenly, I’m second-guessing everything sinister that may have happened last night.

“Convenient timing…It’s like you’re in my head.” I take the cup from his outstretched hand, and one sip confirms it’s a caramel breve, extra hot, with cinnamon on top. “How did you know my coffee order?”

“Lucky guess,” he says, eyes never leaving mine—like he knows exactly how hypnotizing they are.

My order is weirdly specific, the kind of thing only a stalker or a psychic would nail on the first try. I choose not to unpack that. For now.

Taking the other cup from him, I set it on Moriah’s disaster of a desk and leave her to sleep. The door softly clicks shut behind us, and it’s not until Pryce and I are in the hallway, I remember exactly what I look like. I’m still in last night’s clothes—which definitely don’t have the same effect in the daylight—and I probably look like a trash panda who lost a fight with a dumpster.

Self-consciousness hits hard, and I try to look anywhere but at him to hide the mortification that’s inevitably twisting my features.

“Thanks for this. I needed it more than you know.”