There was nothing but empty space outside of our circle. I saw clear to the other side of the room where there was a bookshelf and a large desk that stretched across the back wall. Both pieces of furniture white, of course.
My mouth opened. I shook my head for a spell, then adjusted back in my seat in an attempt to focus on the class.
Time moved forward more quickly than I believed it would. The class took its usual break at the halfway mark. Then, we reconvened and read through scenes that students had brought in for critique. As I listened to each person read their work, I followed along with a red marker, constructively marking any areas where I felt needed to be changed.
Three students later, Holly had just started reading her piece, when something pulled me away.
A breath brushed my neck from behind. I dropped the pen against my lap and twisted. Once again… no one.
What the fuck…
The benefit of being the teacher meant I could go and take a quick bathroom break whenever I so chose. Holly continued to read. I lifted a hand, gesturing quietly to the rest of the class. I excused myself so that, for my own sanity, I could check the old noggin.
In the restroom, I faced the mirror. Dark circles sunk deeply around my eyes. Those bags never did want to leave, did they? I twisted the nob above the sink and watched as a steady stream of water cascaded downward. I cupped my palms, caught some of the water, and splashed the liquid onto my entire face. I did this three times. After the third, I pressed the palms of my hands against my eyelids and held them there, the pressure relieving some of the ache.
“Move over… you’re in my way.” The male voice sounded louder than it had outside the bathroom, as if the person stood to my left near the toilet seat. I recognized the deep, yet gentle voice.
There was no denying who it sounded like.
Jamie.
My skin paled and stomach gurgled. And, no, not from the hangover. I slowly lowered my hands, trailing them down my cheeks and then the rest of my body before landing at my sides. No one was in the bathroom with me. Absofuckinglutely no one.
“It’s finally happened,” I whispered as I started laughing hysterically. “I’ve gone insane.”
“Insane? Nah. Not really,” the Jamie from my crazy mind said.
I jerked back, slamming my head against the cabinet mirror hanging up on the wall.
“Fuck!” I groaned, holding my throbbing head. My heart beat rapidly as I glared around, cautiously inspecting the fucking bathroom for the invisible man who belonged to the voice. A pit expanded inside of my very goddamn core.
I’m insane.
I’ve gone insane.
I can’t go insane.
Oh, it’s finally happened. A night of too much alcohol. One insane goddamn hangover full of hallucinations.
I’ve cracked.
As I exhaled, I let out a shriek. I couldn’t go insane. Not yet, anyway. Killing myself was one thing. Insanity, on the other hand, was not an option. I still had so much more life to live before they committed me to the funny farm. Besides, I had a class to teach!
“Jemma,” the voice of Jamie said again. “We need to talk.”
Every hair on my body stood on end.
Oh, fuck the class!
My clammy hands reached for the door knob and twisted. I bolted out of that bathroom faster than you could say molasses. As I passed the group of students on my right, I had every intention of stopping and resuming my teacher duties. But my legs kept on moving. I glided across that studio apartment, made it to the exit, sprinted through the apartment complex, and raced out into the parking lot toward my car.
It wasn’t until I was already halfway home when I realized I hadn’t grabbed my purse.
I didn’t even care.
Chapter Seventeen
Fuck