Page 64 of Resurrecting the Enemy
When my parents had questioned me the next morning, wanting to know why I hadn’t come home until past midnight, I had told them the half-truth. I had told him I lost everything, due to a virus, and needed to start over on my application projects. And being the wonderful parents that they were, they had felt awful for me, and hadn’t mentioned curfews or school nights.
And on Tuesday, I’d done the same thing; school, dinner, photos, then sleep.
And on Wednesday, I’d done it again.
And on Thursday, I’d done it again.
All week long, I’d gotten up, gone to school, grabbed something to eat, took off as soon as my mom got home from work, and then walked into the house around midnight, sometimes one.
But I hadn’t just been snapping pictures around Sands Cove. I’d gone as far as three hours away to neighboring towns to find inspiration. And while I’d manage to capture a lot of beautiful images, I’ve yet to connect to any of them. The pictures I’ve been taking were good enough to hang in a waiting room somewhere, but they lacked life. And the more I couldn’t connect, the more desperate I was becoming. My dreams were at risk, and I was starting to panic a little.
I was fighting for my future here.
And now, coming back from Hornsborro, I’d had to pull over near a clearing for a quick nap. My eyes had started feeling heavy about an hour back, so I’d done the responsible thing and had pulled over, set my alarm, and had taken a nap. Was it dangerous out here in the dark? Probably. But it was better than falling asleep at the wheel and killing someone.
My phone ringing, I stretched as I looked down and saw Eden’s name flash across the screen. And that was another thing that was killing me. While Curt had been out for the entire week, Erica hadn’t been, and she also hadn’t pulled any punches with that video she had taken at Ramsey’s. That video, along with a few others, had been posted all over social media, and there was no escaping it. However, there was also no escaping how that blonde had been all over Dash or how he had offered up Eden.
When her anger at Ramsey had settled in the background, anger, humiliation, and regret had taken center stage. Anger that Dash would dare. Humiliation that he had shared their personal business, and regret that she’d ever given Dash Marlow the time of day.
I had felt horrible that she’d been dragged into my mess, and I felt helpless that I didn’t know how to save her from it. Ramsey wasn’t above going after her just to hurt me some more, and that’s what I feared most.
I picked up my phone and answered it. “Hey.”
“Where are you?”
My yawned and squeezed my eyes shut, then open, then shut again, trying to wake up. “About two hours from home, maybe,” I answered. “I just left Hornsborro.”
“Damn it, Lake,” she whispered over the phone. “It’s already eight in the evening. By the time you get home, it’ll be ten.”
“Eden-”
“No, Lake,” she said, cutting me off. “You are running yourself into the ground.” This wasn’t the first time she’s said that.
“Eden, I don’t have any other choice,” I replied, not for the first time. “I need to get as many pictures as I can.”
“Lake, not only are you walking around school like a zombie, but you’ve lost some weight, too,” she pointed out. “I’m worried about you.”
I let out a deep sigh. “I know you are, Eden. And…and I love you for it, but I can’t just…give up.”
“I’m not asking you to give up, Lake,” she quickly replied. “I’m just asking you to take better care of yourself. This…this running you’re doing is unhealthy. You’re going to crash and burn eventually.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “I’ve already crashed and burned, Eden,” I reminded her. “This is me rising from the ashes.”
“Lake…”
“How about I make you a deal?” I offered.
“What kind of deal?”
“I promise to sleep in tomorrow since it’s Saturday and no school,” I said, hoping she’ll take the compromise. The thing about Eden was that she wasn’t scared to upset me if she thought she was doing what was best for me. That meant there was a good chance she’d go to my parents if I didn’t offer her some sort of truce with this thing.
“Promise, promise?” she asked. “Not a fake lying promise?”
“Have I ever faked lied promised you?”
“Well, no,” she mumbled into the phone.
“Well, then, there you go.”
