Page 86 of Insatiable

If you didn’t cheat on me, I wouldn’t have been outside the studio that night, contemplating going in to see you, and Bernadette wouldn’t have found me.

My inner voice is selfish.

I can’t blame her for the monster I’ve become. Nope, that’s on me.

Her face is the last thing I see before my vision blurs, and I lose consciousness.

22

KADE

FLASHBACK 4

After I passed my driving test two days ago, Jason took me out, and I drunkenly asked Stacey if she was still coming to my room to watch a movie. She said yes.

I’m a wreck, a bag of fucking nerves as I tidy my room for the hundredth time. Mum had brought up a pile of clean clothes earlier and asked why I was hoovering my curtains at eleven at night.

Fair to say she took the vacuum from me and told me to go to sleep.

I’moverthinkingtonight. I’ve even wiped down my TV screen.

We’ve beentextingall day, and I’verealiseda few things. When she’s home, she either has no signal or doesn’t bother checking her phone. The only reason I’ve had so much of her attention today is because she’s out with her dad at some event.

I’d like to think she isn’t messaging me because she’s bored. The idea that she’s willingly not talking to me all the other times makes me feel itchy and uncomfortable.

Maybe I should shower again?

I reread our recent messages to pass time.

Freckles: Are you sure you want to see me?

Freckles: It’s okay if you don’t want to.

Me: Shut up.

Freckles: Your communication skills are shit. What does shut up mean in this context?

Me: If you don’t come to my room later, I’ll kidnap you from your bed and drag you here.

Freckles: Oh, okay. That’s slightly threatening but a little sweet.

I’m not sweet. I don’t know how to be. When I read that message earlier, I’d stared at it for a whole five minutes before going for another smoke.

With a gnawing in my gut, I wait. Smoke another cigarette, brush my teeth again and check my room once more for any mess I missed.

My phone dings, and it takes me everything not to pounce on it. Desperation isn’t attractive, and apparently – according to Jason’s girlfriend – I should wait at least ten minutes before responding.

I last barely thirty seconds before I read and reply.

Freckles: She’s asleep.

Me: Come up.

By the time a knock sounds at my door, I’ve already paced the room so much I’m surprised there isn’t smoke coming from my carpet.

I swing open the door and anxiously stand aside to let Stacey in.

She’s wearing jeans and a knitted sweater, her hair tied back. “Hi.”

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