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What the hell was that?
I run my hands over my hair, grimacing when I feel how messy it is. Then I go over to the windows and draw the drapes, inhaling a deep breath as I stare out over the forest. Bright sunlight hits my face, and my eyes drift closed as I try to will back the sleepy bliss I woke up with just a few minutes ago.
Then my eyes pop open.
The sun dances over the treetops like it’s taunting me.
Oh, my God.
“What time is it?” I snatch my phone off the nightstand and stare in horror at the display. “I’m late!”
I rush around my room in a frenzy, throwing on my school uniform as quickly as I can. I thought it was weird that a university had a uniform, but after finding out just how archaic the town of Pinecrest was, I’m not surprised. I have no idea what to do with the silver necktie, and I manage to ladder one of my white stockings in my haste to get ready, but no one can say I’m not fully dressed.
“Kat, we’relate!”
If she replies, it’s too low for me to hear. I rush into the bathroom, shoving a toothbrush in my mouth and trying to brush my hair and my teeth at the same time. I end up getting toothpaste all over my shirt, and the brush promptly tangles in my hair.
I spit out the toothpaste, rinse my mouth, and try to tug the brush out of my hair. “Kat!”
But there’s no reply from my roommate.
Holy shit, that’s tangled good and proper.
Am I seriously starting my first day at school with a fucking hairbrush stuck in my hair?
“Kat, we’re—” I burst into Kat’s room—and stop dead. It’s even more messy than it was yesterday, which I’m sure defies several laws of physics.
Kat is lying on her bed with her back to the room, her body curled into a ball.
She’s trembling.
“Kat?”
Silence.
I hurry over and grab her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. “Kat, are you okay?”
There’s a whimper, and then a pathetic, “No.”
“Are you sick?”
Kat lets out a desiccated chuckle.
Her pills.
I need to find her pills. I stare around at her room, my shoulders slumping. I don’t even think I can find thefloor,never mind a bottle of pills.
“Go,” Kat croaks. “I’ll be fine.”
“What? You’re anything but fine.”
“Roll me a joint.”
“I willnotroll you a fucking joint,” I snap back. “Also, I don’t know how to roll one.” I’m pretty sure it’s not as easy as it looks.
“Vodka.”
“Oh, my God,” I mutter, dropping to my knees as I start hunting through the clothes on the floor. I’d love to know where Kat evengotclothes from, but for all I know, she had them delivered. There are still a lot of guy’s clothes here. I’m guessing Wilder hasn’t moved out all his stuff yet.
