Page 83 of Still Beating

But she tried. She tried to stop it.

I feel like a guilty asshole, even though I know what happened between us was real and inevitable and consensual. We both wanted it. We bothcravedit.

But I know her heart—I know that her loyalty to her sister will always be a jagged wedge between us. Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe it was too soon. I swipe at her name on my screen and type out a message I’m sure I’ll regret instantly.

Me:I don’t want to fight with you. I understand why you’re scared and I totally fuckin get it. But whatever is between us isn’t gonna go away. Last night was everything, and I know you felt it too. We can go slower. We can start over. Just don’t shut me out…we’re in this together :)

I add the smiley face because Mandy always said it was the key to texting in order to get your proper feelings across. One time she had an entire conversation with me using only emojis, and it was strange and confusing.

The message shows ‘read’ almost immediately, so I hold my breath and wait. I wait for those little bouncing dots to appear, telling me she’s thinking, telling me she’s responding… but they never come.

I check my phone periodically in between my Kung Pao Chicken andSons of Anarchymarathon, but there’s still no response.

Dammit.

I glance at the time on my phone, noting it’s already after ten P.M. I have to be up for work in six hours. Groaning with frustration, I toss the phone beside me on the couch and run both hands through my hair, letting out a weary sigh of defeat. I stand up, dragging my blanket to the bedroom with me, when I hear my phone ring from the couch.

I pause. Then I drop the blanket and jog towards my cell phone, my heart thundering with anticipation and relief when I see Cora’s name light up the face.

I swipe to accept. “Hello?”

It’s silent for a beat, and then her groggy, slurred voice reaches my ear. “You’re… incorrigible.”

“I suppose I am.” I bite down on the inside of my cheek, a tingle of concern poking at me. “You okay, Corabelle?”

“No… no, I’m not okay. But I thinkyou’repretty okay. Even though you’re incorrigible.”

Her voice is raspy. Sluggish. She sounds drunk. “Have you been drinking?”

“I’ve beenthinking.”

“Okay…”

Cora sighs, and I hear clatter in the background like she knocked something over. “I think we could have been the best thing to ever happen to me.”

I zone in on her use ofcould have been. “We still can, Cora. This doesn’t have to be over.”

“It does have to be over, Dean, because you’re a lion and I’m a mouse.”

“What?”

A stretch of silence passes, and I wonder if she spaced out or fell asleep, but then she replies softly, “You’re a lion, fearless and strong, and I am just a mouse.” Cora pauses again, then continues, “I’m small and weak, afraid of everything lurking in the dark. The things I want are disguised in deadly traps, and yet, I’m still tempted.”

“Cora…” I start pacing around my living room, my stomach unsettled.

She sighs, long and lingering, her heavy breaths like an ominous soundtrack to her words. “The trouble with mice is you always kill them.”

I recognize that quote from the book,Of Mice and Men. It sends a chill down my spine. “That’s not true. Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?”

Cora laughs a little, and it’s just a fleeting, foreboding chuckle. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Wait. I’m worried about you, Corabelle. Talk to me.”

“I do think we could have been great,” she finishes. “If you weren’t a lion, and I was not a mouse.”

The call disconnects, and I’m left staring at my phone, my insides twisting into knots and my heart telling me that she is not okay.

Something’s off. Something’swrong.

---