AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s the least I can do.” She smiled wanly. “God, I’m such a wreck, but I don’t want to move back home this summer. Mom and Dad will be all over me.”
“Then let me move in with you,” I said impulsively. “You help me, I’ll help you. Maybe you can still be a summer associate. We can both fit in your studio at school. We’ll look out for each other.”
“Thanks, honey.” She squeezed my hand. “Maybe we can. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I kissed her forehead and tucked the covers under her chin. Soon, her breathing evened out and she was fast asleep.
Patrick was still out in the hall. Every so often, I heard the faint hum of his deep voice, rising and falling. The minutes stretched out, long enough for me to give up on waiting, curl up in bed, and turn to one of my dogeared sections ofVanity Fair.
Hours later, I woke up with my face pressed against the book. The pages creased my cheek, and my sweatshirt stuck to my skin.
I heard a wave of laughter, riding on Professor Lowe’s dry voice:
She’s not dead. She’s just asleep.
How long had I been asleep? During tonight, during my whole damn life? Pretending and acting and striving to protect myself while I kept the real Christina tranquilized?
That was over.
The desk lamp cast a golden glow. When I stretched, I felt a bulky body behind me.
At the beginning of the semester, I’d huddled here in the cold and dark, my utilities shut off, terrified to be alone. Now my apartment was full of people. I’d fallen asleep with the lights on, sweating in my clothes.
And next to me lay Patrick, his eyes closed and vulnerable.
I wanted to touch the faint blue veins that traced his pale skin. I’d never seen him like this — never been awake while he was asleep. Always, he was alert, watching, calculating. Not now.
The room was warm and humid from the rainstorm. Carefully, I closedVanity Fairand put it on my nightstand. I wriggled out of my sweatshirt and bra, dropping them on the floor. Peeling off my yoga pants, I hesitated with my thumbs hooked in my panties, debating whether to take them off.
A hand caressed my back.
“Didn't mean to wake you,” I mumbled. “I’ll turn out the light.”
Patrick reached out and flicked it off. The room went velvet black. I moved close to him, and he curled an arm over my waist.
The darkness was a tent, enclosing us.
“They apologized,” he said. “It’s up to you whether to accept it.”
“Who?”
“My fraternity brothers.”
“You talked to them?”
“I talked to Chase tonight, and he said James feels like shit about the way you were treated. He’s going to talk to the other guys. Turns out he was pretty hurt about the way I’ve been this year. I guess he thought we were close before I left for Italy.”
“And you didn’t?”
“It’s hard to get close to someone when you’re pretending to be someone else.”
“Don’t I know it.” I twined my fingers through his. We breathed together, in and out, until I broke the silence with a whisper. “I’m nervous about going off Adderall.”
“You can do it. It’ll be hard, but it’ll come to an end.”
“You’re speaking from experience? With booze?”
