And then he stopped. Shane leaned his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, our eyes still closed, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Astra," he mumbled against my lips. "Please don't hurt yourself."
And all at once, his body fell l...
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C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - F O U R
S h a n e ༶ ｡◕
I was woken up by a harsh slap on my cheek. I sat up gasping and shivered. Ice cubes were melting in my lap and freezing cold water was dripping off me. My teeth chattering, I turned my head and scowled at Kyrie angrily.
"You passed out! J-just like that and I panicked and my mom always splashes water on someone when that happens and they won't wake up-" I shook my head and a burst of laughter escaped me. His worried look somehow intensified. "Are you sure you're okay? Because that was scary as fu-"
"Yes! I'm fine!" I interrupted him, running a hand through my hair before trying to stand up, ignoring Kyrie's outstretched hand. I was a little woozy, but still well enough to drive home. I took a step forward and was hit with the sudden urge to puke out half my guts. Or not.
I turned to Kyrie. "Can you drive me home?" I asked, yawning.
He shook his head. "Mom sold my car, remember?" Oh yeah. He stood up with me, and I noticed all the gunk and goo on his face had been washed off. How long was I out for? "But I'll walk with you and take Chloe on her last run." He walked ahead of me and tossed me my coat, slipping his own on. He stared at me blankly. "Are you coming or not?"
I ended up walking home with Kyrie. He didn't ask me any questions, probably since this was the only time I'd ever passed out in front of him apart from that one time in freshman year. I can't believe I did in the first place - you're so weak. I'd have to make sure in future that nothing else ever happened. It couldn't - it was so embarrassing. My throat became parched and itchy just thinking about what had happened.
I had a snack when I got home - figured I'd needed the energy and I was starving. My gaze drifted around the kitchen. The pots and pans were still dirty and covered in a white sauce, half submerged in water. Some of the cupboard drawers were just hanging open loosely. Mother was in the kitchen while I ate, and seeing as I hadn't spoken to her in almost a week, I decided it was time to start a conversation with her.
"Hey, Mom." I swallowed a piece of the croissant I was eating, feeling it churn around in my stomach. "What's up?"
She turned around and wiped her hands on her apron. Her dull eyes met mine. "Oh... Hey, Shane. I didn't notice you come in." She raised an eyebrow and her gaze dropped to the piece of food in my hand. "You're eating," she commented.
I suddenly stopped. I propped my hands on my hips. "Am I, now? I always eat, what do you mean?"
"No you don't," she sighed. "You can trick the rest of the world, but you can't trick me. You've barely been in the kitchen these past few months. I'd say over a year. Look, whatever diet Coach has got you on-"
"Mom! There's no dieting!" I rolled my eyes, already wanting this conversation to end. "I'm just... watching what I eat. And I do eat! I'm just..." I paused as I tried to think up an excuse. I've been hearing voices in my head screaming at me to starve myself because I'm not good enough. "I've just been feeling a bit sick lately." I crossed my fingers behind my back.
