Alive

Chapter 16

Elle

(Monday, May 13)

I'm in this dream. A dream where I'm safe. Warm. A dream where I'm with him.

A dream where I'm touched.

Wrapped in his arms, leaning against his chest, listening to the sound of that wild heart beating. Beating. Beating. His skin is warm against my cheek. I can feel the vibrations when he talks, and he does a lot of that. Telling me stories, combing my hair with his fingers, then whispering, "It's alright." Again and again. "It's alright, Elle. It's alright."

It can't last. That's the thing with dreams. My eyes open, but I'm still listening to that tone. I can feel it in my skin, pinched beneath layers of latex. And everything's blurry. Everything's warm. Relaxed. I don't care. Not yet. Not about the mess. Just him.

It's less of a memory. More a feeling. A lingering sensation that makes me dare to agree with him. It's alright. Maybe. Maybe it's alright. If it's him.

It's fleeting. Like the drug, draining from my system as the minutes pass. Faster as I hear a dog barking, and realize that's what woke me to begin with. Or maybe it's my phone. Ringing somewhere across the room, over and over.

I drag myself up, blinking at my desk for far longer than I should. But eventually I move, glancing over the mess as I retrieve my phone. If that's not enough to wake me, the caller ID gets my heart rate up. Dad. There are nine missed calls and one unread text. My thumb hits call automatically, though I'm nowhere close to being up for a conversation. There are crumbs on the floor, a pizza box, couch cushions, piles of script, and a large stereo I barely remember Oliver dragging in.

Oliver. I turn, my eyes narrowing as I glance out at his dog. He's scratching at the door with his mouth open. His tail wags, but his ears are back. At first I think he needs to go out, but one look behind him and I know it's too late for that. It's too much to even think about right now. I jog over, yanking the blinds closed, but not before Kyle catches my eye. He barks. Just once, and I know he's a dog, but I swear to God I understand him for a second. He's worried.

"Sunshine." Dad's voice cuts the thought off. I'm not surprised at the edge in his tone, but it doesn't stop me from turning around. Kyle was looking at something, and I've got to— My breath catches in my throat. The door's open. "Have you picked up another job or something?"

"No," I say, too distracted to make something up. "It was a late night. I was sleeping."

"Late night," he says. "Homework?"

I'm at the door. The hall is empty, no matter how far I poke my head out. I tuck my phone between my shoulder and ear as I close it. Then lock it.

"Yeah," I say, turning to regard the mess again. But only for a second, because Oliver is gone. I think. I have to make sure. So I speed-walk the rest of the apartment, checking the bedroom and bathroom and kitchen. Then the bedroom again. The bathroom. The kitchen. Again. Again.

"You sound distracted," Dad says. "Is everything alright?"

Alright. Alright. Everything's alright. Right? I check the bathroom again. Then the shower.

"Yeah," I say. "Fine, Dad." I close my eyes, leaning against the wall. Trying to collect my thoughts. "How are things at home?"

"Good," he says, too quickly. "Good, good."

Which means bad. I slide down, tucking my head against my legs. Trying to breathe.

"So listen," he says. Here it comes. "There was another headline this morning. Concerned me. More crime in your area. You've been locking up, right?"