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My head throbs. My stomach churns. Sick. I’m going to be sick.
“Ash?” I glance around, but my room is spinning. I can’t see straight. “Ash?”
No answer.
I stand up, fall down, and stand back up again. I stumble out of my room and open my mom’s door. I peek inside, but she’s already gone to work. The clock on her bedside table tells me it’s three in the morning. I tiptoe down the hall and glance around the living room, but I don’t see Ash. She could be anywhere. Knowing her, she probably left after getting drunk. I imagine her passed out in the middle of the street and slip on my shoes to check outside. I bump into the walls a few times on my way out. I scan the street, but there’s no one in sight. The neighborhood is dead silent, the streetlights illuminating parked cars and shadows of trees in the darkness.
I start calling for Ash, my voice a harsh whisper, and then I imagine how I must look right now, drunk in the streets at such a late hour.
I start laughing hysterically. I have to tell someone. I have to tell someone how funny this is, how hilarious it is that I’ve somehow lost my cousin. Lost her like she’s a pet. I tiptoe across the front lawn until I reach the guest house Theo is inhabiting. Even while under the influence of alcohol, my rituals take precedence in my mind.
1, 2, 3 knocks.
Theo will laugh. He will think this is funny. And then we will laugh together. We will laugh until we have to hold our stomachs, until tears stream down our faces.
Theo opens the door a crack. When he sees it’s me, he opens it all the way. He’s not wearing a shirt. I stare at his chest. The muscles are defined, his skin smooth and free of tattoos, with the exception of his arms. My eyes snag for longer than necessary on the fine trail of hair leading from his belly button to below the band of his sweats.
“Willow. What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Theo’s eyes are squinting, like he’s still half-asleep. His hair is ruffled, a dark ocean of waves. He rubs a hand down his face.
I giggle. I can’t help it. I’m aware of how rude I’m being. I haven’t even told him the joke yet, and he probably wants to laugh with me. “You’re so British,” I inform him.
He squints at me for a moment before sighing. “You’re pissed. Get inside.” He gestures for me to come into the living room.
I wobble through the threshold. “I’m not angry,” I tell him. “Just a little wasted.”
I’m surprised when he chuckles. “Yes. I know, love.”
I glance around. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in here.” I wave my hand around. The place is still furnished the way my mom left it for guests—plainly. There aren’t any decorations, but the small house is filled with bare, modern necessities. A TV is mounted on the wall, and a glass coffee table and black leather couch sit in front of it. The kitchen is visible from where I’m standing, and there’s a stainless-steel kettle on the stove. “It’s like you didn’t even bring anything with you.”
Theo ignores me as he situates me on the couch. The leather is cold through my leggings.
“Wait here.” He goes off and rummages around in the kitchen for a moment. The cabinets open and close, and the faucet turns on. When Theo comes back, he’s holding a glass of water. “Drink this,” he orders. “All of it.”
I take the water from him, but don’t drink yet. First, I have to tell him my story. “Ash disappeared,” I tell him. My voice slurs, and it makes me giggle. “She’s a goner.”
Theo frowns. “What do you mean?” His blue eyes are no longer hazy with sleep.
I pat his hand. “No, no. It’s supposed to be funny. You don’t need to be upset.”
Theo glances at my hand on his but doesn’t move it away. “Were you both drinking?” he asks.
I nod. Smile.
He stares at me. “Wait right here, Willow. I mean it.” He heads for the door, looking over his shoulder at me once more, like he thinks I’ll join Ash in whatever abyss I lost her in.
When he leaves, I set the glass of water on the coffee table. I look around, trying to figure out how a room can feel completely different with nothing more than a new person living inside. Theo is the only new addition, but the house has a wholly different vibe from when my grandma used to live in it. There is, however, a picture of Theo and Mildred on the wall. She’s smiling in the photo, but Theo’s eyes look troubled. I wonder how long ago it was taken, and why his dad isn’t in it.
I head for the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards, and find a bottle of vodka. I sniff it but can’t smell the alcohol. Frowning, I take a swig to see if it’s really water in disguise. It tastes like nothing. I take another sip, and this time I feel the burn when it goes down. I’m about to put the bottle back when I realize I took two gulps.
I have to end it on an odd number.
I really shouldn’t. I’m already dizzy. But I can’t leave it on an even number, so I bring the bottle back to my lips.
––––––––
When I open my eyes, it’s far too bright and I don’t know where I am. I’m in someone’s bed, and it’s definitely not mine. A grey flannel comforter is draped around the bottom half of my body. I glance underneath it, exhaling deeply when I see that I’m still fully clothed from yesterday. The walls in the room are beige with white crown molding. The same as the guest house. My heart races when I realize that’s exactly where I am. The bedroom in the guest house. What the hell am I doing here?
I sit up, but my head starts spinning, so I lie back down. Just as I’m about to try again, Theo opens the door and walks in, his normally perfect hair slightly rumpled.
“Why am I in your room?” I ask him, though the events of last night are already starting to come back to me.
Those last three shots.
Theo coming back to me puking in the bathroom.
Theo holding my hair back. Me crying.
Telling him way too much.
No, no, no, no, no.
He smiles blandly. “Good morning to you too, little Willow.”
I try to come up with something to say to him—try and fail miserably. His face is three emotions, somehow. Exhausted, concerned, and amused, all at once. He must think I’m some kind of nutcase now if he didn’t already. Me showing up here last night, completely plastered, muttering a bunch of nonsense. Telling him about something I never should have. About someone I never should have.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can manage.
His chuckle is low. “You’re lucky I woke up on time this morning, after the night we had. In fact, I may go back to bed.”
I blink. “Where did you sleep?” My cheeks burn. If he slept in his bed with me, I hope he lies and says he didn’t. Makes something up. Or maybe he didn’t sleep at all. Either way, I won’t be able to look him in the eye if he tells me we shared a bed last night.
He looks confused. “On the sofa.” He watches me sigh in relief and glances at my loose shirt, wrinkled and worn. “Do you want to go home and get ready? We don’t have to leave for a few more minutes.”
I nod, pushing away the covers and slowly getting out of his bed. I search his room for anything I might be forgetting, noting how surprisingly neat he keeps his things. There is, however, one unpacked box shoved into a corner that could send me into a frenzy if I let it.
“Who is Daniel?” Theo asks.
All the blood drains from my face. Damn it. He remembered. A knot forms in my throat. “Daniel,” I breathe. I can’t remember the last time I said it aloud. “Where—why are you asking me that?”
Theo crosses his arms, but his voice is soft. “You said it last night. When you were crying.”
When I was crying. When I was drunk. When Theo was holding my hair back while I vomited my insides into his toilet. I am beyond mortified.
I double over, holding my hands over my mouth. Theo makes a startled noise and grips my elbow to hold me up. His other hand lands lightly on my waist. “Are you unwell?” he asks.
I inhale through my teeth. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t ruin my attendance. Or yours.”
“I don’t give a damn about my attendance,” Theo informs me. “Sit back down, Willow.”
“No,” I groan. “There’s no way I’m missing school today.” But then it hits me how hungover I actually am. There’s no way I’ll be able to drive us to school. Not if I can barely hold my head up. I can’t even stand without wanting to empty whatever is left in my stomach.
I weigh my options. There are only two that I can think of, both of which give me enough my anxiety as it is. I tap my fingers while I contemplate them.
My eyes fill with tears. Not only are there only two options instead of three, but neither of them is endurable. Regardless, I still need to decide. I glance up at Theo. His eyes are blazing with concern for me, his lips pulled down into a slight frown.
Rob is not a good man. And Theo was raised by him.
Damn it all to hell. I take a deep breath, ignoring the way my stomach churns with acid in response. “Do you know how to drive a stick?” I ask him.
––––––––
Theo adjusts the side- and rear-view mirrors, which is almost enough to make me tell him to forget it. To say I’m not going to school today and neither is he.
Deep breath deep breath deep breath—
I don’t like letting people drive me as it is. Even sitting beside Ash is hard for me, letting her make the turns on a road full of gas-filled machinery that could end us if she’s not careful enough. Allowing someone else to drive Mitten Chip is unbearable. I haven’t sat in the passenger seat of my own car since the accident.
“Could you please...” My voice is hoarse. “Can you try not to adjust anything too much? Please?” And then I realize that him not making necessary adjustments to the mirrors could very well result in what I fear. “Actually, go ahead.” I wave my hand at him and close my eyes.
I count in increments of three. I tap my fingers. I try to breathe, but it feels like hands are gripping my neck too tightly for air to flow through.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Theo glances at me. “This is an advanced step, love. And you look like you’re about to faint.”
My skin prickles. I need him to stop trying to dissuade me, because if he continues I might actually back out. I’m not sure if it’s because of the mention of Daniel this morning or my fear of failure in general that I’m so determined to make it to school today. Either way, Theo is only making me want to pinch him. “Will you shut up and hit the gas pedal? And stop calling me that. I have a name, you know.”
His concern melts into amusement. I want to slap the smirk off his face. Part of me knows it’s not Theo’s fault I’m about to have a mental breakdown but at the moment, I can’t think straight. Not after him bringing up Daniel. Not with him in the driver’s seat of my car.
His smile is arrogant, teetering on the edge of triumphant. “My apologies, Willow. I’ve never known the word to miff a lady before.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well, not everyone is as charmed by you as you think.” I’m lying through my teeth. Theo is completely charming, and his accent really doesn’t help. “Take us to school, before we’re late. And don’t forget that in America, we drive on the right side of the road.”
Theo laughs, and I vow to leave without him tomorrow morning.
When he starts driving, a wave of dizziness crashes into me, drowning me in panic. Dread weighs my stomach down like an anchor to a ship. I need to shake the feeling off me. I need to escape from my own body. I long to shed my skin like a snake.
I close my eyes the entire way. I keep my head down. I cry a little.
And I count.
When we pull into the parking lot, I’m still sobbing quietly. Theo hasn’t spoken a word to me, probably completely freaked out by my reaction to being driven. I can’t hold myself together. I should have stayed home. I should have never come to school today. I should have taken my chances behind the wheel instead of letting Theo drive.
My face is dripping with tears. My heart is pounding so loudly, I’m sure Theo can hear it.
The passenger seat of a car. Not just any car—Mitten Chip.
Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
I want to leave my body. I want to rip my veins out. My chest hurts. My blood is racing. I can’t pull myself together. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a meltdown like this, the last time my anxiety literally attacked me. I can hardly breathe. My rituals are barely even helping.
We sit in the silent car. The ignition is off, and the only sound is my rapid breathing, interrupted by small sobs.
In, out. In, out. In, out—
It’s over.
We’re here.
We made it.
We survived.
My breathing slows, but I shut my eyes even more tightly. Tapping isn’t helping, so I imagine my happy place.
Lying on a field of grass, beneath the shade of a tree. A book in my hand and my little black dog by my side.
Theo’s hand grazes my back. It moves slowly, rubbing back and forth. I’m so embarrassed, I can’t even offer him thanks or acknowledgment for trying to comfort me. I’m just glad we have time to spare so I can collect myself.
I sit up slowly and open my eyes. I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my yellow cardigan and stare at the smudges on the window. If my mom had witnessed this meltdown, she would probably tell me I need serious help. And I can’t help but agree. I can’t keep living like this, in constant fear. Pursuing comfort through objects, numbers, rhythms. But I also know I have no choice. Not living with rituals results in meltdowns like the one I’m currently having.
The thought—the possibility of having a normal life makes a few more tears roll down my cheeks. I mourn my freedom. Freedom from my own mind.
I can’t live like this.
A few parking spots down, I see Ash sitting in her car. I’m chagrined when I realize I never checked on her this morning. I completely forgot about her, actually. “What happened to Ash last night?” I ask, my voice cracking. “Did you ever find her?” I still can’t manage to look at him.
“She was passed out in the loo at your house,” he informs me. “I carried her to your bed before I came back and saw you honking.”
“Honking? You mean throwing up?” I sniff, turning to look at him.
“Mm.” He nods.
He took care of Ash for me. And then he came home and took care of me, too. All after three in the morning. He must have been up for hours. Something in my chest expands. “I guess I owe you some sort of explanation.” He still hasn’t asked why we were drinking like that on a school night.
He chuckles. “You must find me incredibly thick. That’s not necessary, little Willow. Although I would like to know who the bloody hell this bloke Daniel is.”
It’s not his fault the name rips open the hole in my heart that I’ve finally managed to stitch up. He has no idea what hearing that name does to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Theo doesn’t have a chance to respond, because Ash chooses that moment to tap on my window. Her eyes are dancing, a carefully choreographed routine.
I roll down the window enough to hear her.
Ash’s lips are slightly turned up. “Get the fuck out here,” she says. “You have so much explaining to do.” Ash looks pointedly at Theo behind the wheel.
Theo smirks.
I sigh. “Can we talk about this later? It’s almost time to clock in.” Not to mention I’m finally starting to feel better.
She smacks the window frame. Her smile expands, and I wonder if she was ever really crying last night. “No, we cannot talk about this later. Your drunk ass left my drunk ass last night, so you owe me. Come on.”
She has me there. I sigh and follow her to her car. She motions for me to get in, and she sits in the driver's seat.
“Did you sleep with him?” she asks as soon as I sit down. Her eagerness is tangible.
“What? Ash, no! I did not sleep with Theo.”
Her face falls substantially, but she’s not to be deterred. “Oh, come on! He’s so hot. Just do it.”
I cover my face. “Ash.” She has no idea what I’ve just been through. Or maybe she does and is trying to distract me.
She scoffs. “He practically lives with you. If you don’t do it, I will.”
I gape at her. She’s smiling like she knows she’s won. Though what she has to win, I’m not sure.
“Go ahead,” I tell her. “I don’t care.”
But as soon as I picture the two of them together, I feel like I might be sick all over again. The fact that I care bothers me even more than Ash’s threats. Perhaps it’s because he’s my friend from the past, or maybe because he hasn’t treated me with caution since finding out about my illness. It’s refreshing to be around someone other than Ash who treats me like I’m normal, even after getting to know me.
Ash rolls her eyes. “Uh huh.” She gets out of the car to go clock in, and I follow her.
Charlie is sitting at my desk, reminding Theo about his party. “It’s on Valentine’s Day,” he tells him, eyes twinkling. He catches sight of me and gets out of my desk.
Ash smiles at him. “You know I’ll be there.” She saunters off in the direction of the bathroom. Charlie cocks his head toward her retreating form.
“Are you coming too?” he asks me.
I bite my lip. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
Charlie shakes his head and goes to his desk. I collapse into mine, wishing I had coffee.
Theo pokes me with his pen. “Do you have other plans, little Willow?”
I glance at him. “I don’t know. I just want to sleep for the rest of my life.” In all honesty, I already know I’m not going to the party Charlie is throwing, but I’m grateful Theo is still speaking to me after what I put him through this morning.
Mrs. Harrison tells us to start working on each other, washing and styling the hair of the person sitting next to us. I glance around, looking for Ash, but she’s still in the restroom. Since Theo is sitting at the end of our row, I’m his only desk partner. Our eyes meet, and I want to make up a reason why I can’t work with him. But I know that even if Ash comes back right now, she’ll be paired with the girl who sits on her other side.
Theo stands. “Shall we?”
We make our way over to the shampoo bowls with the other students, and I wonder, not for the first time, what is taking Ash so long.
“Do you want me to wash your hair first?” I ask Theo tentatively. “Or do you want to do mine?” My hair is an intimidating beast. My thick, waist-length curls cascade in every direction, impossible to tame. They are a visual representation of the inside of my mind.
Theo considers his options before I roll my eyes and push him into the client chair. He looks indignant, but I ignore it. There’s a small hose attached to the shampoo bowl, and I start the water. When it’s warm, I run it over Theo’s hair. I pump shampoo into my palms and rub it together between my hands, letting it emulsify.
In the moments before I touch his scalp, a surge of dread races through me. This is incredibly awkward. Washing a stranger’s hair feels like a violation of their personal space. And after the horrible anxiety attack I had in the car, I’d rather do anything but draw Theo’s attention to me. But this is precisely what I’m going to be doing for a living, and Theo isn’t a stranger. So, I thread my fingers through his hair.
I massage shampoo into his temples, trying to exact the right amount of pressure to make for a relaxing experience. I’m too far away, and water is starting to drip down my arms, so I take a step closer. My cheeks burn, and I wonder if Theo is uncomfortable with my close proximity. “H-how’s the pressure?” I ask him.
His eyes flutter and then fall shut. “Brilliant,” he breathes. I’m glad his eyes are closed, because when Ash comes back into the main room and sees me washing Theo’s hair, I want to join the shampoo suds in their quest down the drain.
“Ashton,” Mrs. Harrison says, “you’ll be partnering up with me today, since I placed Eva with someone else.” The instructor motions Ash forward with a finger, and I try desperately not to laugh. Her expression promises revenge.
I rinse the soap from Theo’s hair, and massage in the conditioner. I briefly wonder if he’s asleep. He’s hardly spoken a word since I began. “So,” I say to him. “How are you adjusting to the move?”
Theo peeks at me from behind hooded lids. “All right,” he says. “I’m happy to be away from my dad.” His voice is low, relaxed. His face betrays no emotion, but I can’t imagine he’s indifferent to what he just told me. I feel like there’s something specific I’m supposed to say, but I come up empty.
“Yeah,” is all I manage.
Theo’s eyes open a little more. “What about your father?” he asks me. “What was he like?”
I exhale a long breath. “He died of heart disease shortly after he and my mom split up. I don’t remember him. I was only a baby.”
“I’m sorry,” Theo says.
I shrug. “It’s fine.” My dad’s passing hurts my mom so much more than it bothers me. It’s hard to miss someone I don’t know.
I rinse Theo’s hair for the last time, wrapping a towel around his head. He sits up and pulls it off, rubbing the towel through his hair roughly. It’s such a guy thing to do. When he looks at me again, some water escapes his hairline and trickles down his face. I reach for another rag and dab at the water. The gesture feels strangely intimate, especially with Theo’s gaze on my face.
When the break bell rings, Mrs. Harrison tells us we’ll continue after. I still feel nauseous from last night, but I know I need to eat something if I ever want to feel better.
Ash saunters over to me. She smirks at me and Theo. “Let’s go get some fucking food.” She’s speaking to both of us, and it’s not a request. “I’ll drive.”