Falling For Sadie

Chapter Eighteen

Shapes twirling and sputtering in an ocean of black.

And then a flutter. A soft flutter.

Sunlight streamed through the gap between the drapes hung over Sadie's windows, interrupting her dreamless sleep. She awoke groggily, a pain throbbing in her mind, though she'd had barely any to drink the night before. The night before. The world trickeld to Sadie's senses as the drapes swung in the air-conditioner's breeze. An arm looped around her stomach, secure, tethered her to her bed. She sat up, letting the arm slip to her thighs, and surveyed the familiar mop of blond hair. What are you doing here? She yearned to wonder aloud, but she refused to wake him from his sleep. Sadie smiled gently, a prickle going through her, as she watched his peaceful face. She glanced at his attire: he was still wearing his formal wear from the dance. She could feel the fabric of her dress fluttering against her feet, caught up in the static electricity from the friction of her constant tossing and turning. She tore her gaze from his slumbering features and glanced around her room, the pain still throbbing in her mind. It clawed its way to the forefront of her mind, echoing that she was forgetting something from the night before. There was a reason she'd woken from a dreamless sleep, her pillow still damp and a boy she'd like to hate wrapped protectively around her.

Sadie closed her eyes, willing her mind to remember. Maybe if she blocked out the world – the sunlight streaming through the gap, the goosebumps rising on her bare arms from the AC, and the peaceful hum of Logan's breathing – then she would be able to remember what happened. She hummed distantly to herself, willing herself to find her calm. She'd seen it in enough movies about meditating and such to imagine it might work.

And then, it hit.

It wasn't a trickle, as she had imagined it would be. It wasn't a gentle ball to the fact, a pure accident in gym class. It was a punch to the stomach, strong enough to impress a prized street fighter.

It sent her reeling, sent her spinning off the edge of sanity. Logan's arm no longer tethered her to her bed, he didn't even tether her to herself.

She flipped, incessantly through all the conversations she'd ever had with her best friend, to the very last one. She buried her face in her hands, curling in on herself. She should've talked to her more when she moved. She should've never let her friend sink so low. She knew how Kyla got with boys, too invested with her time and emotions. She knew she was a disaster for the first few days. She knew. She should've never gone on to the dance; she should've never enjoyed it. She should've called indefinitely every five seconds until she heard Kyla's chirpy voice on the other end. She should've stayed.

But she hadn't.

***

When Logan woke up, still dressed in his dress shirt and slacks and still lying in Sadie's bed, he ran his fingers over her spot, as cliché as it was, and felt the cool sheets. He sighed, turning to lie on his back and just think for a second. Before much thinking could take place he heard something crinkle, like paper, with every motion he made. He shifted to sit up and sticking out from underneath his pillow was a little sheet of paper. Cliché, Sade, very cliché.

Written on the paper, in Sadie's handwriting, was simply: Please go home. I don't really want my uncle and aunt flipping the fuck out because there's a guy in my room. Thanks.

Logan crumpled the sheet of paper into his palm, worry flashing through him like a lightning bolt. The last time he'd seen Sadie she'd been crumpled up on the floor, her phone clutched firmly in her hand, black tears flowing freely down her rosy cheeks. He shot up out of her bed and stumbled to the door. He pressed his ear to the door and listened for sounds of people moving. He didn't hear anything but that didn't mean nobody was home. He moved over to the window and peaked out, flinching from the assaulting sunlight streaming through. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed that there were indeed people home, but everyone was out back, splashing in the underground pool. He counted three people, and wondered quietly where the fourth and fifth were.