The Thrashers(68)

“I went to a party.”

“Oh, yeah? Whose party?”

“I don’t know them. Oliver Burns brought me.”

A pause. “Is that why you sound weird? You flying, Dillon?”

“Like a kite,” she sang. “But I’m also spinning like a … something that spins. Hey, what do you keep in your flask?”

“Vodka. It’s my mom’s favorite.”

“Have you tried rum?”

“I—yes, I’ve tried rum,” he said, and she heard him chuckle. The sound was warm.

“It’s terrible. Is vodka better?”

The phone was quiet. After a handful of seconds, Jodi pulled away the screen to make sure her battery hadn’t died.

“Are you … Did you drink?”

“A little bit. Maybe a lot. I don’t know what’s a lot.” She rubbed her face. “But I didn’t throw anything at anyone. Not that I thought I would, but … it’s nice to know that I don’t hurt people when I’m drunk, like my dad. Or yours.”

“Where are you?” She heard the sheets moving again.

“In the bathroom.”

“Who’s with you?”

Jodi looked behind her into the bathtub to make sure. “Nobody. But Hannah Mills is downstairs somewhere. She’s a druggie. Isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Whose house is it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t meet him. Or maybe I did.”

“Can you call an Uber? Can you go home right now?”

“An Uber at two A.M. on New Year’s Eve? What am I, a millionaire?” She snorted at herself.

“I’m gonna Venmo you a hundred dollars right now. Is your Uber app hooked up to Venmo?”

“I don’t…” She looked down at her screen. “It might be, but I’m at three percent.”

“Jodi, can you find a charger?”

“‘Jodi.’” She hummed. “I didn’t know you knew my first name.”

“Okay, just … drop me a pin to your location. Go outside and wait for a car.”

“Which car?”

“Dillon, focus! Just—”

She waited. “‘Just’ what?” Nothing.

She pulled her phone screen away. Dead.

Jodi blew out a breath and pulled herself up to her knees to go find a phone charger—

The room spun. She turned and vomited into the toilet as a knock came to the door. “Is Jodi Dillon in there?”

Coughing and wiping her mouth, she nodded. Then realized no one could see her. “Yes.”

“Jodi, you sick?” It was Nikita.

She moaned a response, and the door opened.

“Aw, poor little Thrasher.” Nikita chuckled and pulled Jodi’s hair back off her neck. “Let’s get you into bed.”

She tugged her off the floor and encouraged her to drink water from the faucet. After scrabbling through the drawers, she gave Jodi a tube of toothpaste to scrub her mouth with.

“My phone’s dead,” she said as Nikita led her down the hall.

“I’m sure we can find you a charger. I’ll look for one and bring you some water, too.”

“You’re really nice,” Jodi mumbled, falling onto a quilted bed.

“Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.” Nikita winked at her and pushed Jodi’s hair away from her face.

Jodi was out before Nikita could close the door behind her.



* * *



Jodi opened her eyes to a dark room, unfamiliar and heavy. A bass beat pounded downstairs in time with her headache, rattling the second-story floorboards. The ceiling was spinning. She was going to be sick again. She swallowed back bile and turned on her side.

A halo of blond hair fanned over the pillow next to her. A pair of clear blue eyes watched her.

The bed felt unsteady, like a waterbed, but she focused on the girl staring back at her.

“Emily,” she croaked. “Emily, what are you doing here?”

She didn’t move, didn’t blink. Had she died? Again?

Then Emily lifted her hand and brushed Jodi’s sticky hair away from her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Jodi said. “I’m sorry you’re dead.”

Emily’s eyes flickered back and forth between Jodi’s. “Do you miss her?” Emily whispered, voice nothing but air.

She felt her throat burn with acid, and her heartbeat in her temple.

“Sometimes.”

Emily brushed her fingertips over Jodi’s eyes, closing them.



* * *



The door banged open, and Jodi’s head split in two as the overhead light burst on. She slapped her hand over her eyes, feeling fingertips like butterfly kisses.

“She’s in here!”

Someone was leaning over her, speaking quietly to her, but she just needed to go back to sleep. It wouldn’t hurt like this if she just slept.

“Come on, Jo,” the voice said, deep and warm. He helped her turn on her side slowly as someone else came in the room. Jodi’s eyes were wet and blurry. Her stomach turned and she bolted upright, bracing herself on the nightstand and throwing up on the carpet.