Page 41 of Afterglow
Jayden grits his teeth before sighing. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Jaz,” He looks towards the door, then back to me. “Are you coming Theo?”
I flick my eyes between Jazmine and Willow, who both seem to be on the verge of tears. What don’t I know? I turn my body, now I am fully facing Jazmine. “Are you okay?”
She doesn’t meet my gaze as she mutters, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Part of me wants to push her to tell me everything. I want to be the one she comes to for help, no matter what the situation is but the broken, pleading look in her eyes forces me out the door. Jazmine wants to be alone. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but I will do whatever she wants me to do.
“I’ll message you, okay.” I say, a small smile forming on my mouth.
Jayden and I make our way to his car in silence. He looks dejected—slumped shoulders and heavy breathing, it is worrying. Our eyes meet when we take our seats in the car and I raise my eyebrows.
“Just don’t, Theo. I know,”
“I didn’t say anything,”
“You didn’t have to. Besides, just looking at my sister’s teary face or even thinking about it, makes me want to vomit.”
I nodded.
After tonight I never wanted to see Jazmine cry again. In fact, my mission until the end of the academic year is to make sure she is smiling. Even if it rips my heart out in the process.
Chapter 19
Jazmine Allen
My brain is about to explode.
Hangovers are the fucking worst. Every time I open my eyes, I am either blinded by the stupid sun, which causes my head to throb even more, or get hit with a wave of nausea. I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to recall the events from last night. All I know is there were multiple shots of vodka and someone rescuing me from the top of a bar.
Slowly, life seems to come back to me as my gaze darts around the room. I suppose the benefit of gettingdrunk is, it keeps my insomnia in check. I don’t remember coming back home or falling asleep.
Grabbing my phone from my bedside table, I check my unread messages. Surely, they can piece my memory back together.
Argh. I am never drinking with Willow Rogers ever again. Scrolling through my phone, I stop on a message from Theodore.
Fuck.
Theodore Knight:
Hope you have recovered after last night.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Memories from last night flood into my brain—Theodore and my brother coming to pick Willow and I up from the bar. Only for Willow and Jayden to start a fight over me.
How drunk Jazmine finds solace in Theodore's arms, where I fell asleep. My cheeks heat as the memories of Theodore's muscles engulfing me flash across my mind.
I am never going to be able to face him. Okay, maybe that is slightly dramatic but as my fingers hover over the keyboard, I can't think of a response to Theodore's message.
Can we forget everything that happened last night?
Please forget I exist.
“Okay,” I force myself to breathe deeper, “In and out,” I repeat. Swiping an affirmation from the top of my deck, I read it aloud. “Embrace the glorious mess that you are,”
Now I feel insulted. I am a fucking mess. My desire to drown in self-sabotage and negative self-talk surges over me like I was caught in a thunderstorm. Deciding to leave Theodore on read, I go to the kitchen in hopes to find caffeine. Willow is spread across our pull-out couch, clutching at her head and groaning.
“Regretting those shots now?”
