Somehow, even after what I'd seen and Raffy's unannounced visit at my window in the middle of the night, I fell asleep without difficulty and remained dreamless. Perhaps it was exhaustion, that I'd simply pushed until I crashed, and nothing could penetrate the fatigue until it had been cured by rest. In any case, I seemed to be past the shock of it all and knew that I couldn't remain in hiding.
Scruffy scratched at the door first thing Thursday morning, putting his nose on the floor to whine to be let out. How he knew it was time to wake was beyond me—there were no windows—and I didn't remember closing the door. Was it a subconscious attempt to put distance between me and Raffy? A different room wasn't enough?
But if that were true, why wasn't it locked?
Scruffy whined again, his claws tapping against the linoleum floor.
"Fine." I sighed. "Give me a minute, Scruffy. I feel like I've just finished an eight-hour car ride while stuffed in a suitcase."
He trotted to the side of the tub at the sound of his name, looking up with sad brown eyes, and then huffed. Turning in a circle, he huffed again, paused, and then went back to the door, sitting with his back turned to me. One more grunt and then he was silent, waiting, though I knew it wouldn't last long.
One by one, I unfolded my legs, raising them to rest on the faucets until feeling returned. Then, hoping the curve my spine had adopted to allow me to sleep in the tub was reversible, I raised my arms to reach for my toes, forming a V with my body. It sounded like I was cracking my knuckles ten times over, but oh, it felt good. My muscles stretched, and my insides realigned, and after holding for ten seconds, I slowly lowered my legs, bringing my hands down to the sides of the tub to push myself up.
Scruffy's tail started to swish, a low moan beginning in his throat. Pausing, I looked over as he scooted back, and the door burst open. Scruffy danced forward, yipping as he circled my father's feet.
"How'd you get in here?" My father, still in his plaid pyjama bottoms and grey t-shirt, looked down, rubbing his eyes. Shuffling forward, he said, "Okay, okay. Let me go to the bathroom first."
His hand fell to the waist of his pants, and I jumped up, reaching out with one hand. "P-please don't."
"Aly?" His hands dropped to his sides and his voice rose. Looking around, he narrowed his eyes, finally meeting my gaze. "Why are you in the bathtub?" He leaned forward, looking from my blanket to my pillow, and then back to me. "Did you sleep in here?"
"Uh..." I looked up, smiling. "Yes?" Stepping over the side of the tub, I bent at the waist to bundle my blanket and pillow in my arms, and then turned back, edging sideways across the floor so that I could pass without making contact. "I couldn't sleep with the, uh... the wind." I nodded. "There was scratching at my window and it wouldn't stop long enough for me to fall asleep, so I came in here."
"But—"
"I—" I shook my head and juggled the load in my arms so that I could open the door. "I have to get ready for school."
"Aly." My father took a step towards me, but I was already in the hall. He poked his head out, watching me with narrowed eyes.
I scurried back to my bedroom with my head bent to the floor and closed the door as soon as I was through. Dropping the bedding to the floor, I leaned back, rolling my eyes, and sighed. That was too close.
Pushing off the door, I rushed around my room, getting ready in record time, and tried to bypass my parents before leaving for school. But my father had told my mom about my sleeping arrangement and neither believed the wind was what had driven me from my room. When they demanded to know why at the breakfast table, I tried to ignore them. Then, when they kept harping, I tried sleepwalking as an excuse.
Still, they didn't buy it.
So, I grabbed a slice of toast and headed out the door, mumbling about a tornado that I thought was going to hit—they should be happy I was keeping myself safe. But whether they finally believed me was lost to the walls as the front door slammed shut behind me.
Outside, I immediately felt stifled. The air was warm, and the sun shone down from the cloudless sky. Finally, a day with no rain, but it was so warm. I couldn't decide if it was an omen or a good sign, like the horror of yesterday was over and I could move on.
Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I got into my car and headed to Suzie's.
As I drove, an image popped into my mind. A moment later, it was gone, but I knew what Suzie's outfit would be before I pulled into her driveway, right down to the colours. As soon as I saw her, it was confirmed, and I bit my lip at the eeriness as I saw her in a white, pleated skirt, red tube top—the classy kind without navels showing—and gladiator sandals. Her hair flowed down her back and her skin radiated like she'd just stepped out of the spa after a full-body cleanse.
"You look grumpy," she said, slamming the passenger door as she entered the car.
Understatement. I rolled my eyes at her and squealed out of the driveway, pushing thoughts of what just happened out of my head like if I didn't think about it, it was a figment of my imagination. I know what's in her closet and the weather made it easy to guess.
Suzie buckled up and flipped down the visor for the mirror as she applied another coat of lip-gloss. "So, no more Brenan, huh?"
"No." I clenched my jaw. No more Brenan.
"Was he upset?" She puckered and then smacked her lips before turning to face me. There was no point closing the mirror—she wasn't finished.
"Yeah," I said. "I can honestly say that he was pretty pissed."
"Is that why you look so weekend-y today?" She motioned to me with her hands and frowned. "It's gorgeous! You should be wearing something light and fun and—"
"Slutty?"
"I do not dress slutty." She jerked back, placing her hand on her chest, and glared.
"I never said you did." Smirking, I darted my eyes between her and the road.
She paused, wearing her one and only thinking expression, but then smiled, moving on. "Whatever. You shouldn't be wearing jeans and a sweater on a hot day, and not black. It like, attracts the sun. You're going to get all hot and sweaty and ugh." She shuddered. "Gross."
"I'll be sure to stay away from you then," I said, monotonous, and shrugged. Sun plus Suzie on a hot day? I was thankful for the excuse not to increase my crummy mood by having to be pleasant.
"Okay, seriously? Go back to bed." She turned forward and sulked.
She hadn't meant it, of course, but the idea was good. Great, in fact. I liked it so much that, instead of pulling into a parking stall, I came to an idle in the fire lane just beside the curb in front of the school. Going back to bed was the perfect plan.
"What are you doing?" Suzie looked at me with wide eyes, and then out the passenger window.
"I—" I looked out her window and saw Gabe leaning against the wall beside the main doors. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder, his hands deep in his pockets. He rested one foot behind him with the sole flat upon the brick and scanned the crowds.
It wasn't fair.
How was I supposed to ignore him when he looked so casual and drop-down-to-your-knees-and-worship-him hot?
Without a jacket, his white t-shirt hung on every ridge of every muscle like he'd just been through a car wash, waxed and shined to perfection. He'd tucked it in by the buckle on his belt, with the back hanging loose against his dark jeans, drawing every girl's eye as they passed.
"Hello? Aly?" Suzie was snapping her fingers in the air in front of me.
I blinked. "What?"
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"
"Oh, uh..." I shook my head. "I'm dropping you off."
My eyes moved back to Gabe. His gaze was still scanning the crowds. I knew who he wanted to find and didn't plan to be here for it to be easy. But, in order to be successful with that, I would have to get lost before he saw us, and before Suzie saw him—that would be even worse. The only thing she loved more than gossiping was meddling. Matchmaking.
No way was I chancing her skills again.
A bad date was one thing but getting attacked wasn't my cup of tea. It's not like I could tell her that. I should tell her to ask Gabe about it, though, and then tape his reaction so I could see it later.
But then I'd have to figure out how to place a filter in her mouth so that it wasn't repeated.
"You're ditching class? What about the party?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little headache but thank you for your concern." I leaned my head against my seat and rolled my eyes. I felt drained, like, if there were Olympic Games for exhaustion, I'd be sleeping on the golden podium.
"I can see that you are fine, Aly, unless your dress code is taken into consideration," she said, raising an eyebrow and looking me over from head to toe. Pausing, she took a deep breath, and turned her head back towards school as she added, "I can't see our party if you go home. Your mom's ready to burn down the building so it won't happen."
"The party won't be cancelled." It was good Suzie still hadn't learned of its location, or she might change her mind.
"How do you know? Did you ask her?"
"God. No, I didn't," I snapped as the dull throbbing in my head became more pronounced. Feeling like acupuncture from the inside out, a thousand of those little tiny needles started to claw their way out of my head, concentrated mostly behind my eyes.
She looked at me in shock, and then turned away, clenching her jaw. Her hand found the door latch and pulled.
"Suzie, I'm sorry," I blurted, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. "This headache is throwing a rave in my head and I—it just... It hurts to talk."
She stepped out but didn't leave, shifting her weight to accommodate her bag. Glancing back into the car, she asked, "You really don't think she'll cancel?"
"I'm positive," I said and knew it was true.
Without a doubt, this party was happening. A brief flash of the rented hall flared through my mind, complete with decorations, and then it was gone. My headache grew blinding.
"Are you okay? You look kinda green."
Now she cared?
Don't say anything you'll regret, I warned myself.
"Fine. I'll be fine." I clenched my jaw and moved my hand to the gearstick. "Come over after school. We'll figure it out. After I sleep this off, I'll be good as new."
I started pulling away and she gasped, startled, but shut the door. Black spots obscured my vision and made driving difficult, but somehow, I made it home, safe and in one piece without hitting anyone along the way.
The door to the house slammed behind me when I got home, the sound loud enough to rattle my teeth. I threw my bag to the floor and rushed to my room, dropping to crawl once I reached the top of the stairs, and then flung myself face-first on my bed. Lifting the blanket, I covered my head. Where had this headache come from, so sudden and fierce? Not even the absence of light helped.
"Aly?" My mom tapped her nails on my door like mice scurrying on cement, amplified by a thousand, and my head exploded.
"Ugh!" Pulling the pillow over my ears, I rolled to face the wall. "Go away, Mom!"
"Pardon me?"
I didn't look up, feeling paralyzed. Even the darkness wasn't black enough to stop the light from leaking in. "Go away." My voice was too muffled to hear.
"Why aren't you at school?" She tried to grab the blanket to pull it down, and I growled, yanking back until her fingers lost traction. "Alyssa, have you been drinking? Drugs?" She sighed. "I know you think turning eighteen allows you certain privileges, but I will not tolerate drugs and booze. It's not even noon!"
I squeezed my eyes and lifted my head just enough to be heard. "I don't drink or do drugs, Mom. I have a headache and you are making me want to puke."
"Then let's go to the doctor."
"Letsnotandsaywedid." I huddled back under the blanket and increased the pressure of my hands on my pillow as though pushing harder could make it better.
"Aly, what if it's because of your concussion? Terrible things can happen," she said, her tone urgent, worried.
I lifted my head up one more time and said, "No doctor, Mom. I mean it. Go Google my symptoms if you're worried. I need to sleep before I throw up, okay?"
"Well, I—"
"Suzie's coming over after school to talk about the party. Wake me up, and if I'm not better, we'll talk about seeing a doctor." I was counting on my dad to be home, guaranteeing it could be avoided.
"I don't think..."
Whatever followed was lost to me as I passed out, no longer feeling as though my head was being split in two like Zeus' daughter, Athena, was coming out minus the armour and battle cry.
The bliss of sleep—no pain, no worries—morphed into happy thoughts and my dream boy.