In His Bed (18+)

Chapter 54

"Hailey, I swear on my life, on my honor, and on our friendship - I'll take this shit to the grave if you want me to."

I saw nothing but sincerity in her eyes, but that didn't comfort me.

When I got like this, nothing could comfort me.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. How long until the Xanax takes effect?"

I shook my head, "I don't know. It's usually pretty quick."

"Are... are you going to be able to drive? Like, after?"

Shame filled me, and I sighed, "Probably not."

Sierra was silent for a moment, and I wallowed in my misery, feeling pathetic and burdensome.

"Okay, you're staying over."

"I can't-"

"Your mom's still working nights, right?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I nodded.

"Then I'm not going to leave you alone like this." Picking up my empty glass, she stood, "I'm going to go let Dad know. Do you want to call your mom? Or do you need me to?"

Not trusting myself to speak, I unlocked my phone and handed it over.

No point in hiding anything from her anymore.

Taking it, Sierra was silent for a moment, then I heard a faint dial tone.

"Hey, Ms. Porter, this is Sierra. Yeah, she's fine, but she had a panic attack. Yeah."

Mom said something I couldn't hear, and Sierra tensed, glancing down at me. "Um, I'm not sure, we were just talking and then it's like she just froze up and wouldn't respond." Sierra nodded, "She took one of her meds, and she said that she's probably not going to be safe to drive afterward? Yeah. So, I was thinking that it might be best if she stayed here for the night?"

The conversation continued, but I stopped listening, losing myself to the nonstop stream of expletives racing through my brain.

Untold hours later, I woke in a dark, unfamiliar room, groggy and disoriented. As I tried to move my leaden limbs, I remembered-

-oh, right. I'm at Sierra's.

Looking around the space, I vaguely recognized the shape of her family's guest bedroom.

And, sitting on the dresser, next to the faint glow of the night light, there lay a pile of something.

Groaning, I sat up, standing and crossing the room to investigate.

...pajamas?

I glanced down, suddenly aware that I was still wearing yesterday's work clothes.

Thoughtful.

Locking the door, I changed, grateful for clothing that was comfortable and clean.

As I changed, I noticed my bag sitting on the nightstand. Taking out my phone, I quietly opened the door and tiptoed downstairs.

Stepping into the front foyer, I pulled up my recents and called my mother.

"Hailey?"

"Hey, Mom."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I whispered, "Just embarrassed."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Hun - shit happens."

"Still."

Mom was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, there was a noticeable caution in her words.

"It... it's been a while since you've had a severe one like this, right?"

"Yeah." I agreed.

"...Is something going on?"

"Just-" I sighed, trying to think of a credible lie, "just graduation stuff, I think. You know, the 'real world' and everything."

God help me if she ever figures out the truth...

"Do you want me to see if Gloria can squeeze you in tomorrow?" Mom asked, naming my therapist.

And what? Tell her?

I shook my head, "No, it's not that urgent. We've got an appointment in, like, two weeks anyway? It can wait."

I could imagine that conversation happening, but I couldn't imagine it going well...

"Okay. Are you going to be okay tomorrow? Do you want me to get you excused for the day?"

Biting my lip, I said, "Would you?"

"Of course, Baby. Just take it easy and make sure to thank Sierra's parents for me, okay?"

"You got it."

Ending the call, I turned and froze, sighting Sierra at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey."

Worry slithered up my spine. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

She shook her head, "Couldn't sleep anyway."

"Me neither."

"Oh?"

"I always sleep like shit after one of those." Grimacing, I continued, "Like, yeah, I'm exhausted, but it's like my brain is too keyed-up to actually rest, you know?"

"Makes sense." Glancing toward the kitchen, Sierra asked, "Want some ice cream?"

"Huh?"

"There's a tub of Butter Pecan in the freezer, and it's calling my name - want some?"

Shrugging, I answered, "Sure."

Sitting at the antique, oval table, I dug my spoon into the side of the melting hemisphere, pleased to find that, while it would never be my favorite flavor, Butter Pecan was actually pretty good.

"So," Sierra glanced up across from me, "do you want to talk about it?"

An immediate, vehement, "No," came to my lips.

And I paused.

Why not?

The past months of secrecy and sneaking around weighed like a millstone around my neck.

If I wasn't going to trust my therapist with this, then Sierra was my only other option...

And, really, I have no choice but to trust her.

Setting the spoon down, I sucked in an unsteady breath.

"So, do you remember, a couple of months ago, when Scott threw that party? Well..."