Chapter 15: Evil, Lies, and Purplish Skies

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JORDAN'S P.O.V.

I sat on my couch toying with my bandaged hand. My car was destroyed beyond repair; it would be cheaper just to buy a new one.

"How's your hand?" Mark asked from the chair, breaking the stone cold silence in the room.

"Burned," I said with a shrug, "damaged, just like my heart. Shouldn't you be comforting Ruby?"

"I would," Mark said with a regretful sigh, "but after the explosion, she wanted to be alone to try and figure things out for herself."

My laptop that was sitting on my desk suddenly flashed to life with the bouncy upbeat music of a Skype request. It was Adam inviting me to a chat with Nick...again.

This was at least the sixth time today they had Skype called. I hadn't been answering any of their calls or texts or Twitter posts in days. I felt bad for worrying them, but it was just too painful to want to talk about it.

"Adam again?" Mark asked, standing up from the chair and glancing over my shoulder at the screen.

I nodded in reply. "They know I don't wanna talk to anyone, but they still keep calling."

"Well, maybe talking to them is a good thing," said Mark slowly. "It might help."

"No," I said through my teeth, the computer still singing the stupid Skype tune, "it'll only make it worse for me."

I stood up from the couch and stomped off to my game room. I heard Mark groan as I slammed the door behind me.

I flopped down in my black gaming chair and buried my face in my hands. Mark had been trying to get me to talk to other people besides him and Ruby since the day Carrie left. Obviously, I wouldn't talk to anyone. They would never understand what I was going through.

I looked up and found myself gazing into my mirror. My face looked paler than the snow of the wintry days. My eyes were shattered with tiny red cracks, tears spilling along my cheeks. My hair was matted and tangled. I looked like an exhausted monster.

I hadn't slept in what felt like days. I spent some of the Carrie-less nights sitting on my couch drinking caffeinated coffee until the early morning, hoping and praying she would walk through my apartment door, her icy blue eyes sparkling with joyous tears, her bright orange hair flying behind her as she ran to hug me.

I would finally be happy again.

The ringing of my cellphone on my gaming desk made me flinch uncomfortably in my seat. I picked it up quickly, hoping it was possibly Carrie.

"Hello?" I said sadly yet somewhat hopefully.

"Hello?" came a female voice on the other end. "Jordan? Is this Jordan Maron's phone?"

I was confused. The woman on the phone was obviously not Carrie. At first I assumed it was some crazed and obsessed fan with my phone number, but the woman's voice was oddly familiar.

"Yes," I said slowly, "this is Jordan. May I ask who's calling?"

"Oh thank God!" the woman yelled. "I was afraid I had the wrong number! Mr. Maron, this is Dr. Drake from the hospital!"

I was confused. Why would the doctor be calling me? Perhaps to check up on my injured hand?

"Hello, Doctor," I said dully. "Is something wrong?"

"Jordan," she said slowly, "what I am about to tell you is extremely secret. You must keep this from your friends for now, at least until everything is sorted out."

"Umm...okay," I said hesitantly. "What's going on?"

"You're not gonna believe it," she said, a hint of eagerness ringing in her voice. "Jordan...Carrie is back."

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