Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)(45)
“Not tonight. I want to go home and sleep.” If I can get my brain to shut off quickly, I’ll even sleep through everyone coming home later. “But I’ll walk you to your door.”
“No, I’m fine, stay here. Goodbye then,” she says with a weird edge to her voice. “Thanks for everything.”
She’s closed the door before I have a chance to respond to her strange goodbye, and that’s when the driver looks at me in his mirror. “Jeez. What did you do, man?”
I don’t bother answering him and make a mental note to rate him only four stars.
Fuck Ethan Callaghan.
* * *
I NEED TO TELL RUSS what happened last night, but I don’t want to.
Halle was right. Russ needs to know, and if he finds out I knew and didn’t tell him I think he might be upset. But, like I said, I don’t want to have that conversation with him. I don’t trust myself not to deliver the news in a way that will make it worse, but I know Halle can’t help me.
Maybe that’s why I feel like not even the fire alarm could get me out of my room right now.
“Henry?” Russ calls my name as he knocks on my bedroom door. “Are you in there?”
Anastasia would say this is the universe intervening.
“Yeah, come in.”
Russ’s head pokes through my door, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “She’s not here,” Russ says into his phone. “Okay, give me a chance to ask him, Ror. You took Halle home last night, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“He did, Ror. Stop panicking. She’s probably just hungover. No, no, I’ll tell him. It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Yes, he’ll call you. Okay, love you, too.” When he disconnects the call he comes into my room and sits at the end of my bed. “She’s freaking out because some people got roofied last night, and Halle didn’t show up to class this morning. One of them was Poppy, and Rory is really upset over it. She’s fine, nothing happened, thank God.”
Russ carries on talking as I go into autopilot to get dressed. He gives me a ride to Halle’s place, and it’s only when I knock on her front door and see her that I finally feel like I can exhale.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan. Stepping through the door, I immediately wrap my arms around her and rest my face against the crown of her head. “Henry, you’re freaking me out. Did someone die?”
Taking a step back I look her up and down, and aside from her red eyes, she looks un-Halle-like in a way I can’t pinpoint. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”
“I’m fine,” she whispers, bottom lip wobbling as she forces herself into a smile. “So, so fine.”
“Halle, why are you crying?”
“I’m not,” she says as she begins to fully sob. “Everything is fine.”
I guide her into the living room, and she’s compliant as I take a seat on the couch and pull her onto my lap. “Why are you crying? Did something happen?”
“I thought you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore,” she blurts out. “I thought you were mad at me.”
This is not what I expected her to be upset over. “Why wouldn’t I want to be your friend anymore?”
I wipe the tears rolling down her reddened cheeks with my thumbs. She looks so sad. “I was pushy and weird last night. I tried to interfere with you and your friends. I know I overstepped, Henry.”
“No, you were right. I should have said something to Russ; he has a complicated situation with his family, and I don’t know how to handle it sometimes. Usually, I just listen to him rant, and I don’t need to give advice. I’m going to talk to him about it. You didn’t overstep.” New tears form and I watch her carefully while she avoids looking at me. Gripping her chin lightly, I tilt her face in my direction. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Our friendship is so new, and you were right, you know your friends better than I do, and the thought of losing everyone and having no friends agai—”
“Friends are allowed to have different opinions on how to handle things, Halle. It doesn’t make me not want to talk to you anymore, and even if something did happen, people don’t want to be your friend because of me. They like you as you are all on your own.”
I hold my arm up, and after a moment of deliberation she leans into my body, letting me wrap my arm around her. Her head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck.
“I don’t know why I’m crying so much,” she mumbles. “I just woke up feeling so depressed and anxious, and now you’re here and it just won’t stop.”
“You’re being dramatic because you have a hangover, Halle.”
“I’m not being dramatic,” she immediately replies before I feel her body start to shake gently. Shit. “Not on purpose.”
Stroking her hair gently, I hold her tight with my other arm. “Alcohol is a depressant. It’s why you feel so shit when you’re hungover. Does this happen every time you drink?”
She shakes her head; the smell of her shampoo radiates from her hair. She smells like vanilla. “Only if I drink a lot. I don’t think I like it.”
“Then why do you do it?” I know she’s crying again before I hear it from the way her body moves. I hate it. “Shh. You’ll feel better once it’s out of your system. Just stop crying.”