Page 75 of Hate You, Maybe
I could see her wanting to give me plenty of space to finish showering. She’s considerate like that. Not to mention, the last time I came out of the bathroom after a shower, I was wearing just a towel.
Still, other explanations ping-pong behind my ribs. Sayla might be reluctant to be alone with me now, thinking I might try to kiss her again, which—yeah, tempting. Not that I’d ever make a move of any kind without her permission. Or maybe she simply has cold feet when it comes to talking about us. Either way, we can’t put off the conversation forever.It’s time to get real about what’s been happening, and a delay might make total honesty even more difficult going forward. So I take a breath and head next door with my cocoa in hand.
Now or never.
“Saylawashere,” Tori tells me in the doorway. She holds the screen open, waving at a bug that’s circling the porch light. “She came by asking to use our bathroom while you were still in the shower.”
“But ours was already occupied,” Caroline pipes up, from inside the cabin. “By me. When nature calls … you know.”
My jaw ticks. “So, she left? Alone?”
“Wherever she is, she’ll be back any minute,” Tori says.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
My blood runs cold.
Fine.
I hate that word.
“See you in the morning,” Caroline calls out, as I cross their porch in a daze. Behind me, the door shuts with athunk, and I stumble down the steps, heart sprinting for my throat. My breaths come in anxious sips, and I press a hand to my sternum to slow my galloping pulse. I haven’t had a physical response like this in years. And I’m overreacting now. At least that’s what I tell myself. Still, the spinning in my head threatens my balance, so I brace myself against the oak tree between my cabin and Tori’s.
No, notmycabin. Ours.
Sayla’s and mine.
She is safe, I repeat to myself. She has to be. These are just old memories rearing their ugly heads. And yet my skull echoes with a menagerie of less comforting words. I can still hear my parents’ voices coming in hushed whispers. At first only nervous, then sliding toward frantic.
The doctors said she’ll be fine. She has to be fine.
Fine.
I shut my eyes and let out a low moan, while an ache rises in my gut, threatening to stifle me. She is not safe. I am not okay. I’m suffocating in a world full of oxygen.
“Dex?”
I drop my mug.
Sayla leaps away as the ceramic smashes to the ground, splattering cocoa and marshmallows across the dirt. I lunge for her, and she freezes as I pull her into my arms.
“What on earth—” she gasps.
I grip the solidness of her body, patting her down, proving she’s here, murmuring into her hair, “You’re all right. You’re all right.” It’s a low mantra I barely notice I’m repeating.
“Of course I’m all right!” she says, but the statement is muffled because her face is smashed against my chest. “What did youthinkhappened to me?”
I pull back, leaving just enough room to see the whole of her. To confirm she’s real and I’m not dreaming. “Nothing,” I rasp. “I mean, I don’t know. I have no idea why I just … I just …” My voice trails off, and I draw in a long breath. “I couldn’t find you.”
“I just needed to take care of some lady things.” She lifts her small purse, and I clear my throat as a picture of her juggling tampon boxes pop into my head.
“I got kind of desperate,” she continues. “And Tori’s bathroom wasn’t free either, so I ran over to Gretchen’s.”
I glance back at our porch. “You didn’t take a lantern.”
“I used the flashlight on my phone like a normal person.” She stifles a laugh, but when I don’t react, she pauses to examine my face. “Hey. Areyouokay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
