“The tapping noises. It won’t stop. Tap, tap, tap.”
He stays silent for a while. Grayson is here, and everything will be fine. At least that's what I tell myself as my heartbeat is faster than ever.
“Rosie,” he says. “I don’t hear anything. There’s no noise.”
But I hear it. It’s everywhere, and I can’t escape it. Tears stream down my face when I realize he can’t help me.
I feel his hands on my face, cupping it and making me look at him. “Rosie,” he says, his face looking pained. His Adam’s apple bobs as he looks at my face. “What the hell did you take?”
“What do you mean?” I ask him.
“Your eyes. They’re bloodshot. What the fuck did you take?” he growls, staring into my eyes.
“Nothing,” I cry out, hearing the tapping noise get louder.
“Please, angel. Just tell me. What did you take?” he asks again.
I didn’t take anything. I didn’t do anything. I shake my head. “Grayson,” I choke out. “Make it stop.”
“Fuck, Rosie. Don’t do this to me, please,” he rasps, his voice breaking. “Not again.”
I rip my head from his hands and press it into my hands. “I can’t take it anymore,” I mumble.
“Did you eat or drink anything?”
“I had the brownies you gave me,” I tell him, the sound muffled from my head being buried in my hands.
“What brownies?” he asks. “I didn’t give you any brownies.”
I force myself to look at him, seeing his face pained and hurt and angry. His brows are furrowed, and the vein in his neck threatens to break through his skin. “You didn’t?” I ask.
“No.” Then, who gave me the brownies? “Were they edibles?” he asks me when I don’t reply.
I shrug, tears still falling down my face. “I don’t know. They didn’t taste weird.”
“How many did you have?”
I hold up two fingers, and his face turns red. He runs a hand through his hair and curses. “Fuck.”
I cry out again, the tapping noise surrounds me.
“Rosie,” he says. “Angel, look at me.” He pulls my chin up until I’m looking at him. “I think you had too much. It’s just a hallucination, okay?” he says, brushing my hair out of my face. “I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?”
I shake my head. I can’t catch my breath, and my heart is beating a hundred miles per hour.
“Breathe,” he orders me. I try to take a deep inhale and feel my heartbeat slow down a little. “Good girl,” he soothes, running his thumbs on my face. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, okay? You’re just having a bad high.”
I exhale and nod.
He stands and holds his hand out. “Come here.”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m going to help you through this.”
21
Teach me