And they both look down at me. I realize I squeaked, a petrified sound escaping.
“You two stay out here then,” Ryke says. “I’ll go in. If someone throws me out, then you run down the fucking hallway and disappear in the crowd.”
“Fine.” But I hear Lo mutter, “I’m going to have to bail my brother out of Mexican jail.”
Ryke turns the knob, and he peeks inside a little. His chest rises in a strong inhale, and he motions for us to come inside with him.
We trust Ryke enough to listen, heading through the doorway. And then we stop.
The door clicks shut behind us.
We must be in some sort of break room. Red couches fill the large space, a television and pinball machine on one side. Graffiti—or really nauseating neon-colored artwork—is sprayed on the walls.
The room is empty except for one blonde girl who has her feet on the couch cushions. She bounces a little and slaps the graffiti image of a window on the wall.
I’m just really, really glad no one is in this room. And that all of her clothes are on.
Ryke nears my sister. “Daisy,” he says slowly.
She glances over her shoulder and smiles weakly. “Hi, Ryke.” She points to the painted window. “Did you know this window doesn’t work?” She tries to grab at the picture. “It won’t open.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
She plops on the couch and touches her head like she’s spinning. “Well…” She swallows hard. “I learned that the blue stuff was absinthe…so…I think I might be high.”
“No shit.”
“Yeah…” She blinks a couple times, trying to force open her heavy eyes. “And that door…that door was not the exit.” A spike of fear breaches her voice. She knows she’s not completely coherent and she was all alone.
My fearless, daring sister is afraid.
Because this was not her choosing.
I’m about to go to her, but I stop. Ryke has already reached the couch, and when her gaze trains on him fully, her face begins to break in slow, liberating relief.
“Hey,” he says, gauging her state.
“Hey.” Her eyes fill with tears.
“Dais, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He brings her to her feet, and her legs quake.
She nods repeatedly, trying to believe it herself.
Lo lets out a breath. “It’s weird,” he says softly. “I thought Rose was going to be the one like this.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Terrified,” he clarifies, “of not being in control.”
Daisy is naturally wild, but I don’t think she was expecting to be this drunk. I don’t think she wanted it, and that was a different kind of unknown than jumping off a cliff or house or plane.
Ryke cups her face. “Hey, you’re safe, Dais.”
She nods again, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.
And then Ryke shifts uneasily. “You didn’t run into anyone before you got here, did you?” Oh my God, he doesn’t think…no one touched her, did they? I am going to throw up with worry.
She shakes her head, a couple tears falling. “I don’t know.” She rubs her face before anymore tears slide down.
Ryke is more concerned than I’ve seen him in a while, and that includes when Lo was puking on the side of the road.
Daisy stares at her hand as though it leads to a magical portal. “I think…I think I’m high,” she repeats what has already been said.
“Fuck,” Ryke curses under his breath. He gently leads her to where we stand. She looks up, and her face brightens a little when she sees me. “Lily. Lo.”
I hug her instantly, and she clutches onto me, her hand disappearing in my hair. “Whoa!” She shrieks and jerks backs into Ryke’s chest.
“What?” My eyes widen.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Daisy asks, panicked. “Ryke, something’s wrong with her face.”
“You’re high,” he reminds her.
“Oh…yeah.”
“The sooner we get out of here the better,” Lo says.
Daisy breathes heavily. “I can’t feel my feet.”
“Great,” Lo says, a nervous hand combing through his hair.
“Anything else you can’t feel?” Ryke asks.
She runs her tongue slowly over her upper lip before saying, “My face.”
Ryke rests a hand on Daisy’s spine. “Daisy, look at me.”
She can’t find the source of his voice. “Ryke?” He’s standing right in front of her.