Chap. 20

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"Here's how it's going to go down. You're going to call me when you get there. I don't want any bullshitting around. Make sure you take your meds because I swear to God you shouldn't put it above me to come out there and find you," Parker said, his eyes narrowing at me.

"I'm not going to fucking Africa," I informed him, with an eye roll. "It's Jacksonville."

"Do not sass me."

"I used to live in Miami," I reminded him. "I don't need a lecture when I leave town for a night."

"You lived in Miami with people who were supposed to be trustworthy," Parker said, with a sigh. "This is Emmett."

"Emmett's supposed to be trustworthy, isn't he?"

"Emmett isn't passing high school, so no."

"You didn't pass high school."

"Shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to do for once."

"Is he really not passing high school?" I asked, as I threw a pair of underwear into my duffel bag.

"I'm sure he is. It's called an overexaggeration," Parker said, with an eye roll.


"And most importantly, behave," Parker added. "Don't annoy the living shit out of him."

"Like I annoy the living shit out of you?"

"Exactly like that."

"Just admit that you'll miss me," I said, flashing him a smile.

Parker just shook his head. "Did you pack clothes for tomorrow?"

"I do not need to go over a list with you."

He held up his arm without a sling in surrender. "Just trying to be helpful."

"Well you're doing an awful job at it."

"Emmett's stopping by to see me before he comes to pick you up," Parker said, pushing himself off the wall. "So he'll already have heard it from me."

"No surprise there."

"Why Saturday?" And then it clicked. "Oh yeah, we're going shopping right?"

"And we're restarting therapy. Unless you've come up with another reason to ice me out."

"Shut the fuck up."

Parker chuckled. "Alright douchebag, be safe."

I flipped him off as he left, shaking my head.

I finished packing, tossing my duffel bag off to the side of my futon. I grabbed a honey bun package before flopping down my futon, cueing up my Netflix.

I was almost done with Season 2 of Breaking Bad.

After my third episode, my dorm room door clicked open, and McKenna came bounding in.

"Hey," I said, pausing my Netflix.

"Hey," she said, plopping down next to me on the futon, her body brushing up against mine.

My body immediately went into panic mode, anxiety seizing my chest and my throat closing.

"Breaking Bad, really?" she teased, looking over at me.

I quickly separated myself from her, crossing the room as I tried to calm myself back down.

I did not want to have a full-fledged panic attack right now.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she muttered.

I gripped my closet door as I began to hyperventilate, my chest contracting.

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