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“I don’t know who that is,” I replied.
“Erica Court. Cute girl who always wears high pigtails. She’s into anime, sometimes dresses up with cat ears.”
Oh, cat ears girl. Yeah. I’d screwed her. She meowed during the whole thing. “What about her?”
“Are you into her?”
I arched my eyebrow. “Into her?”
“Yeah. Since you two hooked up, I wanted to ensure I wasn’t stepping on any toes because she asked me out. I didn’t want to disrespect our friendship. I wanted to ask permission first.”
Oh, Tom. Sweet, thoughtful Tom.
“By all means, go for it,” I muttered, pouring another drink and downing it. I probably didn’t need that one.
I patted Tom on the back. “I’m out tonight.”
“What? It’s still early!”
“It’s two in the morning, and I’ve got somewhere to be tomorrow,” I muttered, grabbing my keys and jacket from the back of one of the chairs. “I’m out.”
I stumbled toward the stairs, running into a side table I didn’t see. “Shit,” I muttered, trying to shake off the throbbing pain shooting through my toe. “Fucking hell,” I griped.
Savannah somersaulted from the couch and shot over to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I grumbled, walking up the stairs.
“You’re always running into stuff. It would help if you opened your eyes more. My blind dog sees better than you.”
“I didn’t see the damn table,” I remarked as I continued to the front door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Home.”
“You’re drunk and high.”
“Thank you, captain obvious,” I sarcastically replied. I was mean when I drank. As I said, I was a shitty friend. I made it to the front door, and she blocked my path. “Move, Savannah.”
“It’s not safe, Milo.”
“I’m not safe,” I echoed.
She placed a hand on my forearm, glanced around the room, and moved in closer to whisper, “Milo, I know things have been hard for you since your mom died, and I know the first anniversary is—”
“Don’t,” I warned. “Don’t keep speaking.”
Her blue eyes grew somber, but I didn’t care. How dare she look sad when she had no reason to be. Her parents were still alive. They still celebrated birthdays with her. They were still able to get pissed at her for her bad choices. They still said “I love you” to her. She knew nothing about sadness and how it infected every inch of a person’s soul. She knew nothing about the nightmares both during the daytime and at night. She knew nothing about what true heartache felt like. Hell, she still had four grandparents. The closest Savannah ever got to death was what she saw in the movies. I’d seen death up close and personal with the only person who ever meant shit to me. That didn’t seem fair. Then again, who said life was fair?
“Milo—”
“Move, Savannah,” I bellowed, drunk, rude, and heartless.
Her eyes flashed with more emotions.
She still wouldn’t budge, so I did what I had to. I placed my hands against her arms, lifted her body, and removed her from the door.
I stumbled down to my car and slid into the driver’s seat. My vision was fading in and out. I couldn’t think or see straight, so I couldn’t drive. I wished I could drive. All I wanted was to go home.
I hopped out of the car and looked up at the sky. It was dark and snowing. I couldn’t see any stars, but I felt the snow. Mom loved the snow. Winter was her favorite season. Everything about it reminded me of her.
I walked over to Savannah’s yard and let my body drop against the foot of snow that had fallen over the past few days. I spread my arms out and began to make a snow angel. Mom used to make snow angels with me when I was a kid. Then she’d make us homemade hot cocoa. She’d always add extra marshmallows to mine.
I loved the extra marshmallows.
I should’ve felt cold out there. I should’ve been shivering or something.
Maybe I was shivering. Maybe I was getting frostbite.
Perhaps I was dying.
That would be a plot twist.
My arms and legs glided up and down, making an angel in the snow before I blacked out.
I woke up the following morning in a random bed. The room was pitch-black, and it took a second for my eyes to focus. It was still dark out. I glanced down at my outfit, and I wasn’t in my clothes.
“What the hell?” I muttered, glancing around.
“Morning, sunshine,” a voice remarked. I looked up to find Tom sitting at the desk across from me. “Took you long enough to get up.”
“Where am I?”
“In my humble abode. I found you passed out in the snow last night. I tossed you into my car and drove you here. Don’t ask how I changed your clothes.” He shivered as if he had chills. “I’m forever scarred from what I saw,” he joked.
