BELONGS TO ME

Chapter 47

There're Post-it Notes scattered along my mirror and pink pens in an Pheonix mug, sitting on my dresser, a few other knickknacks sprinkled around. Above my headboard hangs a giant splatter paint picture with a pair of puckered, pink bleeding lips in the center. Textbooks are in a pile by the closet, so I move that way, and lower to the ground to check them out.

I open to the first sticky note hanging out the side and read over a passage about the pains in American History. Beside it are some scribbly thoughts in my handwriting, a proposal on how we as the next generation can do better.

I don't remember writing it.

I don't remember this room.

But I don't hate it either.

I luv it.

Does that mean I'm still me?

Pulling myself to my feet, I peek out the window, and when I do, I gasp.

Lauren is here, sitting in the parking lot with her truck idling.

I can't see her face from here, but she's looking forward, in the same direction Carl's truck is still parked.

I pull my phone from my pocket, preparing to text her, but then her truck begins to roll, so I lower my phone onto the nightstand beside me.

There's a soft rap on the door, and when I glance that way, Shawn pokes his head inside.

His eyes flick around, a small smile pulling at his lips, and I realize then, this is the first time he's seen it.

He's never been in my room.

My skin prickles with unease, and he walks closer.

"We're going to head to the house, but I wanted to check on you first." He pushes my hair behind my ear, and a small frown flickers across my face from the action. "How you feeling?"

"I'm good." I nod. "Honest, I just want to look around and get reacquainted with the place."

"K," he breathes, and when he leans closer, a knot forms in my chest.

I try to smother it, to press it down, but it doesn't work.

His lips fall to my forehead and that knot tightens, my breastbone caving in, but when my eyes open, meeting his eyes, it becomes a little more bearable.

He grins and walks out, closing the door behind him.

Blowing out a deep breath, I lower to my bed, burying myself in the mountain of pillows and close my eyes.

I inhale deeply and my muscles clench.

I inhale again.

And again, and then I'm sightless in a thick, cloudy haze.

My senses go haywire, searching.

I'm hit with mornings in the mountains and evenings on the ocean.

With Vanilla and pine and mint.

My eyes open as a flash from the hospital comes to mind.

The scent was there, it lingered, and under the heated steam of the shower, the aroma was brought back to life, invading and overtaking my senses.

It calls to me, soothes me, and then it pulls me under.

I'm not sure how much time passes before Hailee's soft voice wakes me.

"Hey sleepyhead," she whispers, curling up in front of me. "Nice to see you actually knocked out for once."

"I feel like I slept for a day."