Page 23 of Stalked
Iwake with a jolt, heart hammering against my ribs. The unfamiliar weight of an arm drapes across my waist, and for one disorienting moment, I can't remember where I am. Then it all rushes back—Vane, prom, the sex.
Oh god. The sex.
The red glow of his alarm clock reads four thirty-seven AM. Vane's breathing is deep and even behind me, his chest rising and falling against my back. I carefully slide out from under his arm, wincing as my body protests. I'm sore in places I didn't know could be sore.
What the hell was I thinking?
I gather my scattered clothes in the dim light, pulling them on as quietly as possible. My prom dress feels ridiculous now, like I'm wearing a costume from another life. I stuff my torn underwear into my clutch, shame burning through me.
I find my shoes by the door and carry them with me. The apartment is silent except for the hum of the refrigerator as I let myself out, carefully turning the lock on the doorknob before pulling it closed.
Outside, the early morning air hits my face, sobering and cold. I pull up Google Maps on my phone—there's a 24-hour Walgreens about ten blocks away.
The pharmacist barely looks at me when I approach the counter, but I still feel like everyone can see what I've done written all over my face.
“I need the morning-after pill,” I whisper, unable to meet her eyes.
She looks up then, her expression softening. “First time?” She asks gently.
I nod, blinking back tears.
“It happens, honey,” she says, reaching for a small box. “Take it as soon as possible with some food. Might make you feel a little nauseous, that's normal.” She rings it up and slides it into a small bag. “There are instructions inside. You'll be okay.”
Her kindness almost breaks me.
I swallow the pill with a bottle of water and a candy bar outside the store, then start the long walk home. The sky is just beginning to lighten, streetlights still glowing against the pale blue. By the time I reach my house, my feet are blistered from walking in my prom shoes.
I take off my shoes and climb the oak tree outside my window with ease—a skill from middle school sneaking out that I never thought I'd use again. My window slides open silently, and I drop onto my bedroom floor with a soft thud.
I peel off my prom dress, wincing as the zipper catches on my hair. The expensive fabric pools at my feet like a deflated dream.
In the bathroom, I turn the shower as hot as I can stand it. Steam fills the small space as I step under the spray, scrubbing until my skin turns pink. The water can't wash away what happened. Still, at least it rinses off the physical evidence—the smell of his cologne, the stickiness between my thighs.
My reflection in the fogged mirror looks different in some way. Same amber eyes, same face I've always had, but there’s a change. I trace the faint mark on my collarbone where Vane's mouth had been particularly enthusiastic.
“Shit,” I whisper, pressing my fingers against it.
I pull on an oversized T-shirt and shorts, collapsing onto my bed. My phone buzzes from inside my clutch. I ignore it, knowing it's probably Vane wondering where I went. Or worse, asking if I enjoyed myself.
Did I?
The question loops in my mind as I stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling—relics from middle school I never bothered to remove. Last night had been intense, overwhelming. Vane knew exactly what he was doing, and my body had responded embarrassingly fast to his touch.
But now, in the harsh light of morning, all I feel is confusion and a gnawing sense of regret. Not because it was bad, but because it was good—better than I'd imagined—and I'm not sure what that means.
My phone buzzes again. I groan, reaching for my clutch and fishing it out.
Three messages from Vane:
Where'd you go?
Seriously, Lia?
At least let me know you're safe.
I toss the phone onto my nightstand without responding. What could I possibly say?
I stare at the ceiling, my heart hammering in my chest. What was I thinking? I'm Lia Morgan. I've never gotten less than an A- in my life. I'm the girl who organizes study groups and volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends.
