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I hesitate, but the crying continues. Shit. What if they really are hurt and scared?

My legs move woodenly in that direction. When I reach the grass, I try not to step on anything that will crunch. Maybe I can just get a peek, and if it’s nothing catastrophic, I’ll turn around and leave without a word. But the closer I get to the noise, the faster my heart beats. The melancholy sounds are echoing around me now, intensifying my own agony. Whoever this is, they are in a world of pain.

A halo of brown hair comes into view, and I freeze. At first glance, the girl curled up in a ball on a bed of dirt looks like a small child. Her whole body is shaking with grief and sorrow so profound it suffocates the air from my lungs. But I know this isn’t a child. She’s wearing the BMA uniform, and before I even get a glimpse of her face, I have an idea who it is.

“Alexa?”

Her head snaps up, and she stares at me, horrified. An orange prescription bottle tumbles from her hand as she tries to ball herself up even tighter.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she whispers.

My knees nearly buckle as I examine the empty bottle. “Did you take those?”

She shakes her head violently, bringing her palms up to cover her ears. “You aren’t real.”

She thinks she’s hallucinating.

Holy crap.

I reach for the empty bottle and nearly topple over. I need to categorize my thoughts. Call 911. Tell them what she took. Give them directions. A second passes, maybe two, but it feels chaotic. I’m punching the numbers on my phone when Alexa speaks again.

“I couldn’t have stopped what they did to you,” she yells. “Please go away! You aren’t real!”

What they did to me?

“Hello, is anyone there?”

Shit. The 911 operator. How long has she been speaking to me? I answer her in a daze, and I don’t know if any of what I’m saying makes sense. My sentences eject in broken fragments, and she tells me the ambulance is on the way. But her assurances are drowned out by the sight before me. Alexa’s still talking, but her words are becoming increasingly incoherent. Her shaking limbs are growing sluggish. Gradually, one of her palms slips from her ear, followed by the other. She’s lying on her back now, staring up at the sky with a glassy expression.

“Please, make them hurry!” I hang up the phone without thinking and kneel at Alexa’s side, trying to stir her back to life. But she doesn’t hear me anymore.

Her head rolls in my direction, and her eyes drift shut.33Kailani“Here.” Jared plucks the red Starbursts from his palm and hands them to me. “You can have the cherry. I know they’re your favorite.”

“Thanks.” I unwrap one and toss it into my mouth absently.

“Are you sure I can’t grab you something else from the cafeteria?” he asks.

“I’m good.” I offer him a weak smile. “I just appreciate you being here.”

He glances around the hospital waiting room and nods. “Do you think they’ll even let you see her?”

“I don’t know.” I squeeze my hands together in my lap. “But I don’t want to leave until I know she’s going to be okay.”

“Hospitals freak me out.” He shudders. “But I wouldn’t let you sit here alone.”

I lean into him and sigh. It’s weird how he went from being a fake boyfriend to a good friend. Jared and I come from two completely different worlds. He was born into this life of money and privilege, but now that I’ve gotten to know him, I can safely say he isn’t like most people at BMA. I can’t imagine any of them even faking concern for Alexa. They surely wouldn’t take time out of their day to come sit here to see how she was. When Jared called to check on me this afternoon, I sort of blurted out what happened in a panic, and fifteen minutes later, here he was.

I haven’t told anyone else from school what’s going on because I don’t want Alexa to become a target for their cruelty. But I did give my mom a quick call to explain I wouldn’t be home for a while.

“Are you ever going to answer him back?” Jared nods at my phone, where Landon’s texts are still lighting up the screen every ten minutes.

“I don’t think so.” The words are the most painful I’ve ever uttered. But I can’t even let myself think about him right now. It’s just too much.

“I’ll give you this,” Jared mutters. “The guy can be a total dick, but he obviously loves you.”

“What makes you say that?” I look up at him, and I can feel the agony in that question. I shouldn’t have asked.

“He stares at you constantly.” Jared snorts. “And he looks like he’s going to murder anyone else who even thinks about talking to you. That’s why he feels so threatened by me. I have to admit, it’s kind of fun to mess with him.”


Tags: A. Zavarelli Romance