FREE STORY WITH EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. This is *not* a Paid Story.
Eighteen-year-old hockey prodigy Elliot Wexler has three goals for senior year. One: somehow graduate with a 3.5 GPA. Two: hide his bipolar disorder from his peers. And three: make it in...
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LUCY PEMBROKE.That's the name of the girl I invited into my house, the girl I lost my virginity to. It wasn't Katie Starling, or Amber Blackwell, or any girl at my school. It was Lucy Pembroke. And it blows my fucking mind that I can care so much about someone I don't know at all, but every time I look at my bed, I see her in my sheets. Every time I go to sleep, I feel her legs wrapped around me. It's torture.
I've been in bed thinking about her on repeat for hours. Sleet pounds the window, and my high runs thin. I need another hit, but something's going on downstairs—sounds like Charlotte's done throwing up. Mom and Dad must be yelling at her.
So here I am, staring at the ceiling with the lights off, waiting for nothing. I should've invited Lucy here instead of meeting her at Starbucks. Maybe I could've changed her mind. Maybe I should've done something differently.
I pick up my phone and press the home button. The light strains my eyes. I could text her, but is there a point? Lucy made it clear she doesn't want my help. My vision goes red thinking about the guy who hurts her. Whoever this asshole is, I have to do something. I have to help her.
"El? Are you home?" It's Mom. My phone drops against my cheek bone and I tilt my head to the side until it falls off.
"Yeah, in here."
Mom opens the door, and the light from the hallway seeps in. I pull my blankets over my head and hiss like a vampire as she steps inside. "Honey, how long have you been laying like this?"
"Four hours," I deadpan.
"That isn't funny, El."
"I'm fine, Mom."
"Is it about Lucy? Ollie mentioned you went to meet her." I'm silent. I wish she wouldn't, but Mom sits on the edge of the bed. "I know you don't want to talk about girls with your mom, but—"
"Mom, come on... seriously."
"Fine. I won't push you on it."
"How's Charlotte?"
"Inebriated. Still very inebriated. She's done throwing up, but..." Mom sighs. "I don't know what's gotten into her lately. Do you have any idea, El?"
Every time Charlotte acts out, I can't help but blame myself for that time I caved and gave her weed. But it was just weed, right? Charlotte would still be like this if I hadn't given it to her... right?
Mom's blinking at me, waiting for an answer, so I say, "Sorry, no idea, Mom. I think she's just going through a party phase."
"Well, I had one of those too when I was her age. With any hope, this whole experience will wake her up." One last sigh, and Mom stands up. "All right, sweetie. I'll leave you alone now." She forces a kiss on my forehead, but I squirm away.
