He’s so quiet, for a second I’m not sure he’s even here anymore. I open my eyes enough to see his shoes before letting them fall closed again.
“Why do we gotta stop?” he asks eventually.
I laugh, a delirious, drunken sound that I instantly feel guilty for. “Because. Too danger—”
My stomach lurches and I clamp a hand over my mouth. Cauler jerks away, then comes back to help me to my feet. “Bathroom?” he asks. I respond with another dry heave.
Cauler straight up lifts me off the floor. I let my head fall onto his shoulder as he carries me down the hall.
Seriously though. Kill me.
I hear Delilah’s voice but can’t understand what she’s saying. Cauler’s voice vibrates through his chest when he says, “I got him.”
Everything’s quiet after that.
TWENTY-THREE
I wake up hating myself.
It’s not an unfamiliar thing, but it’s not welcome, either.
Same goes for the pulsing headache and sour taste of vomit in the back of my throat. I lurch out of bed and stumble out of the room, into the bathroom to throw up.
Last night was a total shit show. Why am I like this?
Cauler carried me to the bathroom and stayed with me while I puked. Then he took me out to someone’s car. Drove me back to campus, carried me to my room, and helped me into sweatpants. Made me drink water and lie down and stayed with me until Dorian came back.
We didn’t talk.
I lay on my side, facing the wall, listening to his steady breathing and holding back tears.
How embarrassing.
I wish I could just take apart my head and carve out every part that makes me like this, really. It’s exhausting being inside my own head.
Dorian’s up when I get back to the room. I stagger my way to my bed and lie down, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes.
“How you feeling?” Dorian asks. I grunt in response and he forces a laugh and I would really truly appreciate death right now. “You up for some breakfast? Zero’s treating us to French toast from the Inn.”
I grunt again. The thought of food makes my stomach churn, but if I’m gonna manage to keep anything down, French toast is it.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dorian says. The sound of him typing on his phone is way louder than it has any right to be.
What if Cauler messaged me? I dig through the tangle of my blankets, twisting my arms all over the place trying to find my phone. I pretty much dislocate both shoulders just to find it on top of my headboard.
No texts from Cauler. Just Delilah asking me to let her know I’m alive. I send her a few vomit emojis and snap Nova a hangover selfie. Everything’s awful, but I can pretend.
“Hey, sooo…，” Dorian says. I turn my head to look at him, half my face still buried in the pillow. “I probably should’ve warned you about drinking on medicine.”
I blink at him.
“Just ’cause, like,” he says quickly. “I mean, we haven’t really had a big drinking night since you started taking them, and you were bad last night, dude. There’s a reason they say not to mix prescription drugs and alcohol. Especially when it’s new.”
I close my eyes. Press a hand to my forehead. I didn’t even think about it. I read the warnings so many times I probably could have recited them by heart, but I’ve gotten so used to using alcohol in place of the medication, it’s like I forgot I was even on it.
“You okay?” he asks.
I close my eyes and huff a laugh. “When have I ever been okay?”
Dorian laughs through his nose. “Relatable.”
Zero delivers our breakfast right to our room. He says it’s because he wants us to remember him as the best captain we’ve ever had, but I think it’s because he wanted to check up on me.
I feel a thousand times better after eating and showering. At least physically. But I still check my phone every few minutes while Dorian and I play Borderlands together. I get a few messages from the boys. The group chat with my sisters goes pretty steady all day. And Nova and I send snaps back and forth like usual.
But no word from Cauler.
God, I feel so pathetic. I could easily message him myself. Say something like, heyyyy sorry for that total nuclear meltdown yesterday, surprise I am like way depressed! Or I’m usually way better at the whole friends with benefits thing, my bad.
Maybe just …
Mickey: Hey.
Sorry about last night.
Thanks for taking care of me.
I toss my phone out of arm’s reach and settle in for a long, anxious night.