Chapter 2
a strange affliction
Saige
It's late when I wake the next morning, the room still dark despite the open curtains. Rain pelts the picture window; the steady tap, tap, tap reminds me of an IV drip. I close my eyes, almost allowing it to lull me back to sleep before Arcadia licks my face.
I'm so tired. I've been like this ever since it happened. I'm not sure how much of it is the concussion and how much is that constant ache at the center of my chest—the most unbearable pain of all.
It's my fucking heart. And it's broken. I can't think about anything except how much it hurts. Elias told me I don't get a hero, and he was right.
I just get this.
A part of me felt relief when I saw him last night, and it confused the fuck out of me.
I blame the head injury, but really, it makes sense.
I've spent the past two weeks terrified, all while surrounded by people I couldn't tell the truth.
I can't tell them what I did or that it might be why this is happening to me, but Elias already knows.
I think there's comfort in that. And I slept better knowing he was here.
I blame my trauma brain again. I spent months thinking Elias was protecting me when he wasn't. I just need more time to catch up.
I head to the bathroom, locking the door behind me before filling the tub.
I get so tired and lightheaded in the shower, and it scares me.
I worry about that for my return to campus—showering is the only option.
But the longer I wait, the worse it's going to get.
Sitting around here in the dark with my mom halfway up my ass certainly isn't helping.
And I miss Nolan.
Besides, my skin got thick a while ago; I just forgot. I won't let it happen again.
After bathing, I pack my things. I didn't bring much—just the essentials and my computer, so it doesn't take long. I grab a couple of pillows and then fold my comforter and set it on top, too, since I don't have any bedding, thanks to Elias and his fucking squirrel.
I search the room for anything I may have forgotten, my eyes settling on the top drawer of my desk.
Slowly, I approach it and pull it open, removing a small red jewelry box. It used to hold a locket—my ex gave it to me for Valentine's Day when I was sixteen. I'd never gotten anything like it, so I kept the box, and I'd put the necklace in there at night before I went to bed.
It's weird to think about the girl I was before; in my mind, she's an entirely separate entity from the person I am now. She was innocent and hopeful. She woke up happy and thought she knew where she fit in the world.
Now, the red jewelry box she cherished has a molar in it, knocked loose with a pistol in a back alley on campus. I take it out, turning it over and examining it between my fingertips.
It doesn't feel right leaving it here. I mean, it was a part of my body before some douchebag in a mask tried to throw me in his fucking kidnapper van.
I start opening the other drawers, looking for something I can tie it to, but I don't find anything. Sighing, I go to my closet and pull it open, but I don't know what I expect—I'm not a fucking crafter. I don't have shit like that.
I resign to trying dental floss, but just before I shut the closet, that black dress hanging on the back of the door catches my eye.
It does something to me. That black dress represents everything I hate about myself—everything that makes me weak.
I kept it as a reminder to ensure that something like this never happened to me again, but it happened anyway.
I trusted the wrong people again. I let Elias hurt me again.
And then some asshole—who may or may not be the guy I threw off a cliff a few months ago—takes my goddamn molar.
My whole life people warned me about the monsters hiding in the dark—the ones like him.
They don't tell you about the ones who hide in plain sight.
The ones who lure you in, one gentle touch and stolen moment at a time.
You don't find out about them—not really—until it's too late. And that's kind of worse, isn't it?
"Fuck you!" I shout before gripping the dress's skirt with both hands, pulling hard enough that it starts to come apart at the seams. "Fuck." Rip. "All of you." Rip. "Piece of shit men." Rip. "I fucking hate you!"
One more tug and the skirt separates from the bodice, the force knocking me off balance, and I fall flat on my ass on the bedroom floor.
It doesn't hurt—not really. But it upsets my equilibrium a bit. I'm dizzier than I should be when I pull myself to my feet, still clutching the bottom half of the dress in my hands.
I bring it to my desk and start unraveling the black thread. Once it's long enough, I wrap it both horizontally and vertically around the tooth a few times.
And then I tie it around my neck.
I run my fingers over it while staring at my reflection. I like the way it looks, and I don't need the dress anymore. I have a new reminder of how the world fucking works. How it changed me…again.
"Saige?" my mom calls before knocking on my door. "Are you up? We need to get going soon, unless you've decided you want to stay another week."
"Yeah, I'm just…crafting."
"Crafting?"
"I'll be right down."
"Okay, well, I made you something; I guess you'll have to eat it in the car now. I'll wait for you downstairs."
While her footsteps move down the hallway, I almost change my mind—almost. As much as I want things to go back to normal, I haven't had much of a normal at West Pine, and I'm not looking forward to returning to the place where I was attacked and to an entire campus that's seen my sex tape.
The other day, I dyed the pink streaks in my hair brown, thinking it would help me blend in, but it doesn't quite match, and I know it won't help much.
And when I look in the mirror, I just feel less like myself.
But like I said, I know it won't get any easier the longer I wait.
Sighing, I tuck my tooth necklace inside my hoodie, grab my bag, and head downstairs.
"All right, I'm ready," I tell her. "Where's Alex?"
"He had to go into the office. He wanted to see you before he left, but neither of us really wanted to wake you. We thought you needed your sleep more."
"Got it."
"Are you coming back to school?" Elias asks from behind me. I don't know why I assumed he'd left; of course he hasn't. "I can take you, Saige."
"No way," my mom says. "Absolutely not."
"Why not? I'm leaving right now. It's kind of ridiculous for us both to drive all the way out there at the same time, isn't it?"
"She's not going with you. You need to stay away from her."
I really don't have the energy for this.
I look at Elias, pleading with him with my eyes. "Elias, I'm going to go with my mom. Just stop, okay?"
"We have things we need to talk about."
"Things?" my mom asks. "What things?"
"I…" Pausing, I shake my head. "I can't."
He rakes his fingers through his hair, his frustration apparent. "All right. Fine. I'll see you in class, Saige."
He grabs Arcadia's leash and leaves, slamming the front door a little too hard, and I squeeze my eyes closed, exhaling slowly.
"You didn't tell me you had class with him."
"It's not a big deal."
"It is a big deal. If he's the one who did this to you—"
"Mom, save it. You didn't care about Elias this much when he lived here, and I told you he was fucking terrorizing me."
"That's because I didn't think he was capable of something like this.
I felt bad for him. But Saige…" Her eyes dart around the room, and then, although we're alone, she lowers her voice.
"He's so violent and angry…and fixated on you.
You know his mother had issues. If someone like him were to get sick like that… "
"I don't think he is."
"You don't know that. You don't know him—not really."
I blink back tears. I like to think he isn't, but quite frankly, I'm not so sure.
I'm also not sure why I'm so intent on defending him, other than I know he isn't the one who tried to throw me into the van that night.
Still, he's shown me who he is so many times.
Everything bad that's happened to me over the past two years—even Miles—was because of him. The texts, the video—it was all him.
Scaring me and making me cry makes him come. And he says that's love.
So yeah, I know who Elias is. And I know exactly what he's capable of.
"Yeah, you're right," I tell her. "I don't know him. Can we go?"
"Let me just get my things."
I wait by the door while she grabs her purse, and then I follow her out to the car. After we pull onto the road, I open the lunch she packed and take out a turkey sandwich. It looks like she put some cookies and a couple of butter tarts in there, too—the few Elias didn't take.
"I know I've said it before, but I have to say it again—stay away from him, Saige."
"Mom, I'm just trying to eat this sandwich. I don't want to talk about Elias anymore."
"I'm serious. Stay away from his friends, too."
"Fine. That's not a problem for me."
"Does he bother you in class?"
"No."
It's a lie. Pretty much all Elias does in class is fucking bother me.
"Are you sure?"
I shrug. "His general presence bothers me, I guess, but yeah, I'm sure."
"I talked to the officer assigned to your case. He said they're going to make sure the campus heightens security around your dorm until they catch the person who did this. I sent them a copy of your class schedule, too."
Great. More eyes on me. I ignore her and take another bite of the sandwich. "Did they say anything about who might have done it?"
"Not really. They think it could have been random. Someone could have seen you on campus or in class and just zeroed in on you. It happens to a lot of women. Maybe, since it didn't work out, they'll just move on."
"Yeah…maybe."
I guess that could be it. I mean, she's right; it happens all the fucking time.
Or it could have been Miles.