Page 50 of Where the Stars Heal

WHISKEY CREW

Connor: Please don’t hate me but someone overheard me in town and… well everyone’s here now to party.

Tessa groans beside me as I reread the text once more.Everyone’shere. More people. People I don’t know. I look up at the girls with my heart pounding in my chest, hoping to find that this is just one big joke, but they’re already looking across the yard, and that’s when the noise breaks through the bubble we created. A group of strangers sit around playing cards as they drink at the table. The backdoors are wide open with more people spilling outside, their loud voices competing with the music. My gaze darts back to the girls who exchange a wary glance when our phones ping again.

Connor: I can see you girls are about to lose your minds but I’d just like to remind you that this could have been controlled if Halle let me put on a proper party

“Oh, he did not,” Tessa gasps with disbelief.

“What a fucking idiot,” Madi snaps.

My brows furrow, and I grit my teeth, standing abruptly when another text comes in. I said yes to tonight, knowing it would be just us. I’ve only just started to feel a part of this family, to feel comfortable with these guys.

Connor: SHIT. SORRY, I’M SORRY I didn’t mean that, please don’t be mad

“Halle, are you okay?” Tessa asks, full of concern.

I force a smile through my building anxiety. “I’ll be fine. Enjoy the party. I’ll come find you guys later.”

I don’t give them a chance to talk me out of escaping. Ibeeline for the doors. They should enjoy the party. I know Hunter hasn’t thrown one since the night I arrived, and they deserve to hang out with all their friends. But me? I’m just not there yet.

Connor’s words sting more than I care to admit. Out of everyone here, he was the first to truly welcome me in, always being kind and understanding to me. Or so I thought. Does a party mean that much to him?

Feeling unease creep through me, I push through the crowd, trying to get to my room. The sickly-sweet scented perfumes fused with whiskey and beer fill the air, overwhelming me as I bump into people moving forward. My ears ring with the noise that’s growing louder, and my hands begin to tremble, the familiar grip of anxiety squeezing tighter.

I slam my door closed just as I hear Connor shout, “Halle, I’m sorry!”

I know he won’t come barging in here. He’ll wait, give me time to calm down. I’ll go out and talk to him when I’m ready, but right now, I need space.

Leaning against the door, I press my palms to my flushed cheeks, forcing myself to take deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth.Calm, calm down, I tell myself, trying to steady the rhythm of my heartbeat. White dots flicker at the edges of my vision, and a cold numbness begins to move down my arms to my trembling hands. I shake them out and stumble across to my bed, taking in my sketchpad and charcoals I left sprawled out this morning. I grab the little orange bottle I’ve hidden in the nightstand and pop the cap, tipping two pills into my palm.

I need… I need the quiet, the stillness.

You ruined the night.

No one cares about you.

Why are you even here?

The whispers start, snaking their way into my mind. I stare down at the pills, but all I see are shades of green, like the forest trees with specks of gold.

Asher’s eyes.

A shuddering breath escapes me, and a single tear slips down my cheek. Exhaustion creeps its way in, and a heavy sense of regret sinks into me. With fumbling fingers, I tip the pills back into the bottle, closing the cap and placing it down on the nightstand.

I don’t need them anymore.I can do this on my own.

I crawl to the middle of my bed and sit cross-legged, reaching for my sketch pad and tracing my finger over the page. The lingering scent of paper and charcoal hangs in the air, and I inhale deeply, allowing the familiar scent to comfort me in the chaos of the storm.

A soft knock breaks through the quiet of my room, and my heart begins to race once again, but this time for a whole other reason because I know who’s behind the door before he even speaks.

23

SHE TASTES SO GOOD

ASHER

“Halle,” I call softly, my knuckles tapping against her door.

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