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My fingers hover over the phone. Should I go? I sort of want to, but don’t. I’m confused and with remnants of last night’s trip down nightmare memory lane, going to a party makes me feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

I decide not to reply for now and wander out of my room, feeling a bit bad over not responding to him. My guilt must be written all over my face since Zayla takes one look at me and her brows raise.

“Whoa, what’s that look for?” she questions as she butters a slice of toast.

“Nothing.” I sigh as I plop down into a chair at the table. “I’m just stressing out about a test.”

She continues to keep her brows raised as she sets the butter knife down. “You’re lying. I can tell. So fess up. What’s up with the frown?”

I grimace, propping my elbows onto the table and resting my head in my hands. “Fine. But if I tell you the truth, you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Shit, is it like bad?”

“No… I mean, freak out in like an excited way.”

“Okay.” She gives a short pause and when I peek up at her, she’s studying me as she takes a bite of her toast. “I guess I can promise that.”

I sink back into the chair and trace a crack in the table. “Wylder and I kind of hung out yesterday. And he invited me to go to this get together today. I told him I would, but now I’m thinking I don’t want to.”

She smashes her lips together, her eyes wide.

I sigh heavily. “Fine, say whatever you need to say.”

She opens her mouth and lets out a squeal. “Oh my god. Ohmygod. Oh. My. God.” She sits down in a chair and sets her toast down. “Okay, now that I got that out of the way.” She grows serious. Well, as serious as Zayla can be. “Why do you not want to go to this party tonight? Because it’s a party.”

“It’s not a party,” I correct. “It’s a get together.”

Her brows furrow. “What’s the difference?”

“There’s less people there, I guess.” I shrug. “That’s what he told me anyway.”

She smirks. “To try to persuade you to go because you hate parties, and I’m guessing he caught onto that.”

“He did.” I let my head bob back in frustration. “Which is so annoying and goes against every rule I have.”

“You know, I never fully understood your rules. College is about having fun and being crazy and wild. Not trying to be invisible.” She collects her toast, takes a bite, and a trail of crumbs falls from her mouth and lands on her shirt. “And FYI, you are not the kind of person that does invisible very well.”

“I was doing okay until the whole Brooks thing the other day.” I slump back in the chair. Then I wince as I realize that she probably doesn’t want to be reminded of that now. “I’m so sorry, Zay. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

She gives a dismissive shake of her head as she brushes the crumbs off her shirt. “It’s fine. I’m over it.”

Her lie is written all over her face in the form of a frown and watery eyes.

“Hey, we should do something fun today,” I suggest as I slant forward and rest my arms on the table. “Maybe we could go to a movie and get lunch at that place you’ve always wanted to try. That one that has all those weird named sandwiches.”

“I’d love to, but I’m going out with Trystan today. We’re leaving pretty soon, actually, so I need to get ready.” She points a finger at me as she rises to her feet. “And you need to text Wylder and tell him you’ll go to his not-party-but-really-is-a-party. No more being invisible and hiding out in this stuffy dorm room. Go out and have some fun for once.” She grins and winks at me before hurrying off toward her room.

I could tell her about how much fun I used to have, and the consequences that came because of it. But I don’t talk about it aloud. Not really, except for on occasion when my brother brings it up. He doesn’t even know the extent of everything that happened; of the regret and guilt I feel on a daily basis. It’s the reason that I continue to go help my sister even when it’s starting to become too much—because I owe her.

Speaking of my sister…

I need to call her soon if she doesn’t call me like she said she would. I know better, though, than to rely on her words. I do wonder why she hasn’t mentioned her drugs being missing, unless she hasn’t noticed yet. But I’m fairly positive she was high last night. Perhaps she thinks Liam did it?

“Fuck,” I mumble as I lower my head and softly bang it on the table.

How did everything get so messed up? Things weren’t always awful. Were they perfect? No. But we were more whole. Now we’re just pieces—shadows of who we used to be. And Zoe’s shadow is fading fast as she steps further out of the sunlight and into the darkness.

“Hey, what do you think about this outfit to wear to like this sort of music festival thing?” Zayla interrupts my thoughts.