Page 9 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

Theo.

Yup. Theo just saw me puke.

And act like an idiot at my first college party.

No, not an idiot.

A child.

He saw me act like a child.

The same thing I’ve been trying to change for years.

Dammit!

I rub beneath my nose with the back of my hand as Theo helps me to my feet in silence. The room is still spinning but not quite as badly.

He doesn’t let me go as he leads me to the sink to clean up. And boy, do I need it. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, a lump clogs my throat.

My dark, smokey makeup is smudged, making me look like a raccoon instead of the sexy goddess I’d been channeling. Not to mention my naturally curly red hair. It’s sticking up in every direction like I just rolled out of bed. I don’t look sexy anymore. I don’t look put together.

I look like a freaking train wreck.

Like Merida from Brave. Except without the Disney Princess filter. Just pale and pasty and…a mess.

I want to go home.

My attention shifts from my own reflection to Theo’s as embarrassment floods my cheeks, turning them red. Then again, maybe it’s from the vomiting. He’s standing behind me, his brows pulled low and angry. And it hurts. To see him mad at me. To see him disappointed.

“I don’t want a lecture,” I whisper. My voice echoes in the otherwise silent bathroom, and the ensuing quiet is almost eerie. Like he doesn’t know what to say or how to express how much of a screw-up I am.

Fun fact, Theo: I already know.

With a soft curse under his breath, he leans down and grabs something from beneath the sink.

Mouthwash.

I take the bottle from his grasp and swig a little of it, the minty flavor a welcome change from the taste of acid and alcohol.

After a solid thirty seconds of swishing, I spit it in the sink and twist the cap back onto the bottle, setting it onto the counter while Theo simply…watches me.

He’s always watching me. Even when we were little, I would catch him staring. Studying. I always wanted to know what he was thinking. If he was as fascinated with me as I’ve always been with him. But not today. Not in this moment. Tonight, I think I’d prefer to be left in the dark. No need to add salt to the wound and all that.

Avoiding his gaze, I tuck my hair behind my ear and murmur, “I should probably get home.”

“I told Mia to leave.”

I crane my neck toward him and look over my shoulder, meeting his gaze with my own as he stands behind me. “What?”

“She shouldn’t have to clean up your puke.”

Ouch.

His sharp words shouldn’t hurt, but they do. I’m not surprised. Everything hurts when it comes to Theo. My heart. My pride. My confidence.

Why would tonight be any different?

But I refuse to let him see it. How much it hurts to be around him.

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