Page 195 of Wrath

"See that line there in the hardwood?" she asks, pointing down at something. "Walk it."

"I've gotperrrrrfectbalance." I try to walk the line, and Jenna laughs as I wobble into the mattress. "S’all good, Jenna Benenna. Get some sleep and sleep it off. Walk it off." She laces her hand through my arm, and when the floor is tilting so bad I'm worried I'll fall and take her down with me, Jenna wraps her arm around my waist instead. "If you can't do the stairs," she murmurs, "I'm calling Zane for assistance."

I groan at that—this Zane guy likes me—and Jenna whispers, "Don't be talking loud about it now."

Through the house. A bunch of color, faces.Cookies on the counter!

We're out in the night. "The bugs are loud," I tell her.

"Crickets."

"I know."

Her arm is around me. "Hate that this is uphill for a minute." Up the driveway, through the bushes...my apartment is the complex right beside here. “Wanna stay?" I ask her.

"Can't. I got that super early class that's way across campus, out on the east side. Never get there on time walking all this way."

"I gotcha."

"So how did you meet him? The influencer?" she asks.

Influencer?Oh, she means Dom Bryant. "Atlanta."

"Were you with Daniel?"

"Yeah."

"This drunk?" she asks as we move through the bushes.

"Shut up, Jenna."

I feel sicker now. As my shoe soles touch the dark asphalt of my apartment parking lot. As the pine trees all around us sway in moonlight. Everything around me doesn't seem real.

"Joshie?"

We stop walking, which makes my brain slosh. I blink at her face. "Yeah?"

Jenna's hand comes to my face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." My voice is a whine.

Her fingertip touches my eyelid, dropping a black veil over the top half of the apartment building. "What did you take?" she asks, quiet.

"Just stuff. Nothing weird or anything," I throw in.

Her arm goes around me again. "Let's go slow. You're really hot and breathing kind of fast. Do you feel funny? Sick?"

"I feel good." I put my arm around her, too, and Jenna leans her head against my shoulder. "I love you, Joshie. You're one of my favorite people on this planet. Whatever you did tonight, don't do it again, okay? You promise?"

"Okay."

Maybe Jenna's right. I feel so sick as we go up the stairs. Like the blood’s leaving my veins and my body might crumple like a balloon without air in it. I can't get my key into the lock, so she unlocks it for me.

When we get inside, she looks around—it's messy—and then grabs hold of my hand. She frowns up at me.

"Josh?" I force my eyes to stay open, so I can look back at her. "You don't look good. Your hand is so...clammy. And cold."

"I'm fine." I need to sit down. I sit on the couch and put my head in my hands. I feel sick and sweaty. It'll pass, though. Always does.

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