Rebel Hearts

10. Nolan

10

NOLAN

M OM: Please don’t stress out about this honey, but can you call me tomorrow when you get a chance? I got a weird bill from Dr. Morgan’s office today

MOM: It’s probably nothing so PLEASE don’t call tonight, ok? I know you’re out at that party thing, and I don’t want to see you on TV looking sad

“Hey, I got more of your favorite, absolutely delicious punch that you love so much.”

Aiden’s voice took me by surprise, and I looked up to see him standing in front of the bench. I slid my phone back into my pocket. I did not want to talk to him about my mom’s texts. What I wanted to do, actually, was call her immediately and ask what the bill said, but she obviously knew that, and I had a feeling she wouldn’t pick up if I did.

I made myself smile, hoping Aiden wouldn’t pick up on my discomfort. But when I took the punch from him with a murmured thanks, he just nodded and sat down on the bench, not looking at me. His leg bounced up and down, and his brow was furrowed.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

I was surprised to find I actually cared. Maybe it was just leftover guilt from when he’d snapped at me earlier. But it was still weird. I wasn’t used to worrying about how Aiden felt.

He didn’t answer, just shrugged and took a long sip of his sangria. I took a swallow of my punch. It really was disgustingly sweet, but maybe it would calm him down if I seemed more grateful.

“Well, thanks for the drink. I appreciate it,” I said, taking another sip. Might as well shoot sugar straight into my veins through an IV. I felt a little giddy from the sweetness.

“We should talk about happy things,” Aiden said abruptly. “We need to smile for the cameras, instead of talking about all that intense stuff.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure we still needed to be talking at all. We’d spent most of the evening together at this point. But oddly, I didn’t feel the urge to get up and leave like I usually did.

Maybe it was the sugar, or maybe it was just the fact that this bench was the only quiet part of the entire harbor, but that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling I usually got around him had mellowed into something softer. There was still heat between us, but I didn’t feel quite so much like it was about to blow up in my face.

Or maybe I just didn’t want to have to think about my mom’s texts right now.

“Did you have a topic in mind?” I asked when Aiden lapsed into silence. His eyebrows were still drawn down, and he was watching the crowd warily.

He tossed me a wry smile. “What’s your favorite baked good?”

“Oh, come on,” I protested. “No fair. You don’t get to say it’s a dumb question earlier and then use it now.”

“I never claimed to be consistent,” he said airily.

That was certainly true.

“Mal used to make these cookies for the restaurant,” I said after a moment. “To go with after-dinner coffees and espresso. They seemed so simple. Just this chocolate dough that you make, roll up, and then slice. But when you bake them? He says it’s all about the butter you use, but I swear, he must add something special in there because it’s like heaven in your mouth.”

Aiden shot me an incredulous look. “Now you’re just baiting me.”

“Baiting you?”

“Heaven in your mouth? Really? He added a special ingredient? You’re practically begging me to joke about you sucking him off.”

I was grateful to the twilight for hiding my flush, but I took another sip of punch before answering anyway.

“I meant sea salt or something, when I said extra ingredient. Not cum.”

“Well, you should specify next time.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway. What’s yours?”

Aiden grinned. “My special ingredient?”

“Your favorite baked good.”

“Ugh, that’s much less fun. I don’t know. Cake, I guess.”

“What kind of cake?”

“Any kind?” He shrugged. “I’m not too picky.”

“That’s literally the point of this question.” I turned towards him. “Picking a favorite means picking something.”

Another shrug. “I guess I’m just not that particular.”

“I find that impossible to believe. You seem like the kind of person who has opinions about everything.”

“I do have opinions about everything. But when it comes to baked goods, I’m an equal opportunity eater.”

“Seriously? You don’t have a single favorite baked good? Nothing a family member used to make for you? No dessert you always split with a friend at your favorite restaurant?”

“My family hates each other, and I’m too poor to have a favorite restaurant. Half my diet is like, leftover bagels from the coffee shop.”

“Okay, fine, what’s your favorite bagel?”

“I really just eat whichever are still around at the end of the day.”

“Oh my God. Just fucking pick something. Tell me a favorite anything. I don’t care what. A favorite movie. A favorite breakfast cereal. A favorite time of day. A favorite inside joke with your best friend. It can be anything.”

I couldn’t believe I was getting this worked up. I actually felt a little light-headed. But it was bizarre, wasn’t it, that Aiden wouldn’t tell me a single favorite thing?

“I guess I’m just not a person who has favorites. I’ll take what I can get, you know, and just try to be happy with it.”

“Christ, you’re not a Victorian-era orphan, Aiden. Your life doesn’t consist of begging for more gruel and stale breadcrumbs. It’s not going to kill you to admit you have preferences.”

“Have you ever considered how much it sucks to pick a favorite of something and then not be able to get it?” he snapped. “To be reminded of the fact that the world doesn’t give a shit about you, that you can’t get what you want, and that even your friends and family, your favorite people , don’t feel the same way back?”

I stared at him.

“I’m not anybody’s favorite person. I’m not even anyone’s favorite barista. I’m not the guy people choose, you know? For anything. It just doesn’t make sense for me to pick favorites when I’m never going to be anyone’s first choice, and I’m never going to get my first choice. I’d just be setting myself up for disappointment.”

“That’s…” I trailed off.

“Clearly not something you’ve ever experienced?” he said.

“I think I was going to say sad?” I made a face. “But that sounds judgey, so—”

“It’s fine. Judge away. Everyone else does anyway.”

God, his eyes were so blue. Even in the darkness, they shone. I looked away. My head felt a little swimmy, and my neck felt hot. I took another sip of punch.

“Sorry,” Aiden said. “I was the one who said we should talk about something happy, but I keep jumping down your throat.”

“S’okay,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment. “I just won’t ask about favorites anymore.”

“Well, what does that leave us with?”

“Um. What was the last bagel you ate from your coffee shop before you came here?” I asked, opening my eyes again. The dance floor was a mass of moving shapes and thumping music. Even the lights seemed to swirl.

“Good question. I think it was garlic salt.” He laughed. “Makes your breath absolutely fetid, but they’re so good.”

“ So good , but not a favorite. Got it.”

“What was the last bagel you ate?”

I frowned. When was the last time I’d even eaten a bagel? I couldn’t remember.

It would have been sometime back in—fuck, it was suddenly impossible to remember anything about my life back in DC. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even entirely sure what I’d eaten for breakfast. My brain felt very fuzzy, all of a sudden.

“Nolan? You okay there?”

“Hmm?” I turned and looked at Aiden. He was peering at me with concern. “What did you say?”

“I asked about the last bagel you ate, and you zoned out like you were pondering the nature of all existence.”

“What? No, it’s—I’m fine. I just…can’t remember…bagels?”

I was also incredibly thirsty. I drained the last of my punch, then looked over at Aiden’s glass. I didn’t want to drink alcohol, but my throat was parched. The water lapping on the dock posts below us mocked me.

“Alright, no bagels. Um, what was the last song you sang in the shower?”

Maybe I could get up and get some water? But moving right now seemed very difficult, like it would require a coordination of arms and legs that I was no longer sure I could manage, and the drinks table was all the way over on the other side of the dance floor.

“For me, it was Britney, ‘Toxic,’ this morning. But you probably heard that, actually. Come to think of it, you don’t really strike me as a shower singer. And I would have heard you, wouldn’t I, if you were. The walls at the Wisteria aren’t that thick.”

The Wisteria. What I wouldn’t have given to be back there right now, lying down. My head was pounding. Not in pain, exactly, but it felt like it was made out of jello and throbbing in time with the music.

“Nolan?”

I looked at Aiden.

“You still with me?”

“Sorry, I just—whoa.” I shook my head, then brought a hand to it. It felt like it was going to fall off. “Fuck, I’m dizzy.”

Aiden’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized me. I stared back, trying to focus. He was so cute, even if he did look like he had three heads right now.

“I don’t wanna freak you out,” he said gently, “but can I just…?”

He slid closer and put a hand on my shoulder. Was he trying to kiss me? I felt like I should say no. I felt like there was some reason I didn’t want him to do that.

But right now, I couldn’t remember it. Couldn’t remember anything except how clear his eyes were, how intensely they were trained on me.

That, and the feeling of his lips on mine. I remembered that all too well. And now that I thought about it, would it really be so bad to feel that again?

Aiden was a good kisser. And so responsive. I’d liked kissing him, even though I shouldn’t have.

“Nolan,” Aiden said, bringing his other hand to my chin and turning me back to look at him. I hadn’t realized I’d drifted off again.

“S’there a camera?” I asked. “S’okay, you can do it if you want.”

He pulled back, his brow furrowing even more. “What are you talking about?”

“I just—if you wanted—you could—”

I raised a hand and touched my lips, then tried to bring my fingertips over to his mouth. Aiden caught my hand in mid-air and brought it low, shaking his head.

Fuck. I’d misread things. Why had I assumed he wanted to kiss me? With the amount that I’d upset him tonight, it was a miracle he was still talking to me.

Maybe I should apologize again? It suddenly seemed very important that Aiden knew I was sorry, not just for tonight, but for all the other times I’d been short with him. That it wasn’t his fault. That I was just—

“Nolan, are you sure you’re alright?”

“ M’fin. Jshh thikpng. Yountnomsry .”

Whoops. That hadn’t come out right. Why was it so hard to talk all of a sudden? I needed a nap. Maybe I’d be able to speak more clearly if I could just get some sleep first.

“Jesus, what the hell happened to you?” Aiden looked at my empty glass. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were drunk. Except I know I got you non-alcoholic punch, and I didn’t mix the glasses up because mine still tastes like booze.”

“ Nolcol. Donrnk ,” I said, then shook my head again. That hadn’t come out right either. Why did my lips feel so fuzzy?

“I think you might need to lie down,” Aiden said.

I nodded. Or tried to, anyway, but the motion made me dizzy again. He was right, though.

“ S’okay. Albfin. ”

I put a hand on the seat of the bench and tried to lower myself down horizontally. I just wanted to close my eyes. Everything was too bright and too dark, all at once.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, not here .” Aiden grabbed my arm and pulled me upright. “I meant at the inn. We need to get you back there.”

I shook my head. There was no way I’d make it. The inn was so far away.

“ Sleeve me. M’goot ,” I said, struggling to pull my arm free. Why wouldn’t he let me sleep?

“You are the opposite of good,” Aiden said, shaking his head. “You’re very not good right now, in fact.”

The look he gave me then was so worried. Who had given him permission to have such a pretty face? I tried to touch it again, but he caught my hand a second time and stood up, pulling me to my feet.

“Come on, upsy-daisies.”

He tugged me up, but my balance was so shot that I immediately stumbled, pushing him backwards. He staggered, his arms going around me, and I had just enough time to register how nice that felt before he was pushing me away.

“You’re sure you didn’t have anything to drink?” he asked.

My head was spinning, so he was just a streak of blond hair, a blur of blue eyes, and a set of kissable lips. Well, more like fourteen sets of lips. But I could still see well enough to know he was giving me a skeptical look.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself. I really didn’t feel great, but I also hadn’t had anything to drink.

“Sick,” I said. It took incredible effort to enunciate the word clearly. “ Thinmskc .”

That had to be it. A twenty-four-hour bug, or food poisoning. I’d either gotten it from lunch today, or the punch at this party had gone off. Rotten peaches or something. Though as far as I could tell, no one else looked like they were about to faceplant into the harbor.

I turned away from the crowd. It hurt to look at them. All the movement and bright lights were stabbing my eyes. But as I turned, I caught sight of a camera twenty feet away. I lurched. Whatever was wrong with me, I didn’t want it recorded for posterity.

Aiden moved in front of me and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Careful. I’m not sure you could swim well enough right now not to drown if you fell in the water.”

“ Hum. Need—get—hum ,” I mumbled. It was so hard to string together a sentence. Hard to string together a thought. But I knew that much. I needed to get somewhere private and dark and away from cameras. I summoned up every ounce of willpower I had to pronounce a single word. “Bed.”

“Yeah,” Aiden said softly. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

I tried to turn around, bracing myself to make it through the pulsing crowd of bodies and noise, each lightbulb dangling above the dance floor a tiny, electric sword slicing right into my brain, but Aiden shook his head and pulled me to the left.

“Not that way. Not unless you want the cameras to see you like this.”

Bless him for thinking of that. He really was thoughtful. More so than I’d ever given him credit for. Why had I been so mean to him, all these weeks? I regretted it.

I tried to tell him as he guided my feet along the cobblestones, but all that came out was a dribble of syllable-porridge. Maybe it was for the best. I’d probably just embarrass myself further if I could speak clearly.

“Head,” I gritted out. “Too. Spin.” I tried to point to my brain, to emphasize what the problem was, but all I managed to do was poke myself in the eye. “Fuck.”

“Let’s just get you back,” Aiden said, staggering as I stumbled over my feet, “and leave the fine motor skills for the morning.”

I couldn’t tell you how we got back to the Wisteria. It was a blur of night air and rustling leaves and Aiden’s arm wrapped around my waist. His touch was strangely comforting, and not just because he kept me from face-planting into countless bushes.

He felt warm and solid. Like he was tethering me to the earth. The stars above us whirled and danced in ways I was pretty sure they didn’t do normally, but I was too out of it to think that they looked anything but beautiful. Just like him.

“Alright, we’ve got steps coming up. You ready?” Aiden asked, which was when I realized that we’d made it back to the inn.

I couldn’t even be mad at him for how condescending he sounded, since whether I was ready for stairs or not was a legitimate question. The Wisteria’s porch bucked and lurched in my vision, and I had to clutch his arm just to make it to the front door. A little bell tinkled as we pushed inside, and I blinked against the sudden brightness.

“You guys are back early,” said a voice that I knew. “Is it over, or are you just—”

I forced myself to look at the figure rising from the desk in the foyer, and eventually, it resolved into Mal. He hurried towards us, worry painting his features.

“Shit, are you okay?” He put his hand on my shoulder.

I tried to marshal my thoughts into words, but just opened and closed my mouth like a frog, emitting a low sort of croak. Domino, Mal’s black-and-white cat, had come over to inspect me along with Mal, but now he backed away, looking frightened.

“What the hell happened?” Mal asked, transferring his gaze to Aiden.

“I don’t know,” Aiden said. “He started acting kinda funny about half an hour ago. Losing his train of thought, slurring his speech, getting dizzy. I don’t understand, because I know he was drinking non-alcoholic punch all night. It’s like he’s been roofied.”

Those words crashed through the buzzing in my brain, hard enough to make me stumble all on their own. Fuck, that couldn’t be true, could it?

Aiden pulled me upright, but I just wanted to sag to the floor. Roofied ? But I’d been so careful. I never drank around people I didn’t trust. I didn’t leave glasses out where someone could tamper with them. I tried to stay alert.

But I hadn’t been careful at all tonight, had I? I wanted to vomit. I hadn’t seen what had gone into that punch, hadn’t gotten that second glass myself. I peered at Aiden blurrily.

I trusted him, I realized. I wasn’t sure why, but I did. I knew, implicitly, that he wouldn’t have done this to me on purpose. But if he’d set our drinks down for a moment? Left them unattended while he talked to someone else?

This could not be happening. Not again. Not now.

The worst part about it was, I couldn’t remember what the last time had felt like. All I remembered was the aftermath. So I couldn’t even be sure what was happening tonight because I had nothing to compare it to.

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes.

“Jesus, Nolan, are you hurt?” Mal asked.

I shook my head. This was my worst nightmare. Not just what had happened, but having people see it. Having my best friend see it—see me —like this.

“ Mfin ,” I said. “ Sneedmd .”

Mal looked at Aiden blankly.

“I just want to get him upstairs,” Aiden said, wrapping his arm around my waist again. “I think he needs to lie down.”

“Let me help.” Mal moved to my other side and slipped my arm around his shoulders.

“ Dond—d’nee —” I tried to explain, but he cut me off with a look.

“Hush. Let people help you for once, okay?”

That was exactly what I didn’t want, especially not from Mal, but Domino chose that moment to slink around my ankles, which made me stumble again, and after that, it was useless to argue.

The climb up to my room was awful. I kept getting dizzy and wanting to hurl, and when we reached the third-floor landing, I slipped. I flailed around for something to hold on to, but instead of grabbing the bannister, I grabbed Aiden, and managed to pull him down on top of me.

“ Mm—fuhh—sh-sh-shorry ,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut and wanting to die.

It was bad enough to be so completely out of control, but for people to see it? My best friend, and the guy who hated me? It was excruciating.

Someone was laughing. I squinted one eye open, expecting to see Aiden enjoying himself at my expense, but it was actually Mal, who shook his head and chuckled.

“I know he’s cute, Nolan, but can’t you wait until we’re in your room to grope your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I grumbled, except it came out more like, snot myb flengk , and only made me want to die even more.

I felt a hand on my cheek then, cool and grounding, followed by Aiden’s voice. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. Just a few more feet to go, and then you can lie down, alright?”

I wasn’t sure which was more surprising—how gentle his voice was, or the fact that it actually did help to hear him say that. Reluctantly, I nodded. If I was going to die, or puke, I probably shouldn’t do it in the middle of the stairs. I didn’t want to make Mal’s night even more inconvenient than I already had.

The final steps through the hall to my room, and then across the carpet to my bed, were agony. I’d never felt more relieved for my head to hit the pillow. Aiden waved Mal out, thanking him for his help. I was too exhausted to even lift my head to say goodbye.

I wanted to pass out and never wake up, but Aiden wouldn’t let me. “I’m going to go get you some water,” he said, touching my temple again.

“ Don wahn ,” I told him. My lips were smushed into the pillow, but he must have understood me.

“Don’t care. I’m getting you water, and you’re going to drink it. Stay there.”

Where was I going to go? I never wanted to move again. I just closed my eyes and waited for him to leave. With any luck, I’d slip into a coma before he came back.

I just wished there were a way to make sure my door was locked behind him. The thought of lying here vulnerable, where anyone could come in…

“Hey. Hey! Don’t fall asleep on me yet.” Aiden’s voice penetrated the fog in my brain, and when I opened my eyes again, he was crouched at the side of the bed, holding a glass of water.

Seeing that reminded me that I was actually the thirstiest person on the planet. I was a water vampire. I could have drunk the entire contents of the Mississippi and the Amazon combined. I reached out, took the glass, and promptly spilled half of it on the comforter.

Aiden sighed. “I probably should have predicted that. Here, let me.”

He took the glass back and brought it to my lips like I was a baby who couldn’t be trusted not to make a mess. The fact that he was right only made it worse. Water dribbled down my chin, and I died a little inside. When I finished the glass, Aiden set it down on the nightstand and gave me a long look.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you need to go to the hospital.”

“ Wha? Hosh—no .” I tried to shake my head, but only managed to press my face farther into the pillow. It squished my nose and made it a little hard to breathe, but I couldn’t quite summon the energy to move again.

But Aiden had other ideas. He slipped one hand underneath my cheek and turned me so I was facing him.

“Hey. Asshole. I know you’re high as a kite right now, but I’d really appreciate you not suffocating yourself while I’m trying to save your life.”

“ Noddye ,” I mumbled. “ Cannd. Dunwah. No spull .”

“Yeah, you’re doing a really great job of convincing me you don’t need help when you can’t even pronounce your words right.” He frowned. “Aren’t you worried? Who knows what you actually ingested tonight? What if it’s something dangerous?” He bit his lip. “If you were roofied, I—I don’t know what to do. But I don’t want you to die on me.”

Fuck, I needed him to stop saying that word. Every time I so much as thought it, it triggered a full-body shudder, and then a new batch of tears, and I really, really didn’t want him to see that.

“No.” At least that word, I could say correctly. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was not going to cry anymore. Not in front of him, not in front of anyone. “No.”

“I know you don’t consider your day complete unless you’ve disagreed with me a hundred times, but this is serious.” I felt his hand move to my shoulder. “I’m worried about you. Please?”

I opened my eyes to tell him to leave me alone. To go back to his room, or the party, or anywhere that wasn’t here. To leave me in peace.

But what came out was, “ Cannd ,” along with a broken sob. The fact that I couldn’t stop shuddering long enough to explain only made it worse. “ Pleash jush. Ikinnd. Canngo .”

I knew Aiden had a point. I wasn’t sure what I’d been given. I wasn’t even sure I’d been given anything. The best way to figure that out would be with a doctor’s help.

But the thought of anyone else seeing me like this? The thought of people on the show finding out, of the world seeing this and it becoming a whole thing? I couldn’t survive that.

“ Don wah peefl shee me ,” I choked out around tears. “ Pleash .”

Aiden was quiet for a long time. Or at least, it felt like a long time. It might have only been ten seconds. I could barely remember my own name, so tracking the passage of time was a bit beyond me.

But finally, he spoke. “Okay. If I end up regretting this because you die overnight, I am going to be so mad. You understand that, right? I’m going to find a way to resurrect you, just so I can kill you myself. But fine. We don’t have to go to the hospital.”

“ Fank —” I started to say, but he stood up abruptly before I could get the words out.

“I’m getting you more water. Try to still be alive when I come back.”

I wasn’t sure how long it took for him to come back, or just how many glasses of water he made me drink in the ensuing minutes. It was more than one and probably less than twenty, though it felt like about two hundred. I slurped each one down greedily.

At some point, Mal came back to check on me, speaking quietly with Aiden by the door before disappearing downstairs again. Aiden came back to the side of the bed after Mal left.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t ask him to stay, and send me away,” Aiden said with a wry smile.

“ Wha —why?”

I blinked at him. His face was a little less blurry, but it was still fuzzy around the edges, and he had this halo around him now, this glow, that I couldn’t quite make sense of.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought maybe part of the reason you were being so stubborn about all this was that your pride was hurt. That you didn’t want to have to rely on someone you’d slept with, because it would ruin your whole aura of mystery or whatever.”

In spite of myself, I laughed. It sounded more like I was trying to gargle water, but it was meant to be a laugh, anyway. That was what he thought I was worried about? He had no idea. But there was no way in hell I was going to tell him what had actually sent me into such a tailspin.

“What?” he asked, frowning. “Are you trying to tell me you’re not being stupid about your pride?”

I sighed. I shouldn’t have laughed. Or gargled.

“ Dinshleepyou .”

He arched an eyebrow. “You really want to talk semantics at a time like this? Whether or not you call it sleeping together , you can’t deny we hooked up.”

I closed my eyes again. I was too tired to argue the point. “ Dunmat. Shlepfim too .”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’ve slept with Mal? I thought he was married.”

I groaned. Why the hell had I said anything in the first place?

“ Long timgo. For—for married .”

I still didn’t open my eyes. It was too embarrassing. Not that I’d slept with Mal—that really was ages ago, and it had never been anything more than physical. But thinking about Mal reminded me of who I used to be, back when we’d hooked up. Thinking about him now only brought home how much he’d changed, and how much I was still stuck.

Somehow, I started crying again.

I didn’t want to be this person, this mess who was so uptight and tense and anxious all the time. But I didn’t want to be the old me either, who’d been so careless he’d been asking to get hurt. And even now, even when I was being careful, I’d fucked up again. I turned my face back into the pillow.

“Hey.” Aiden’s voice was soft. He didn’t make me look at him, didn’t tell me to open my eyes. Didn’t even touch me. But I could tell he was close, probably crouching at my side. “Hey, are you…I mean, I know you’re not okay. Obviously. But are you—do you—do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head.

“Do you…need anything else?”

I shook my head again. I needed a lot of things, but all of them involved going back in time and being a different person, and Aiden couldn’t fix that for me. No one could.

There was a long pause.

“Okay. Well, I—I guess I’ll…go…then?”

He said it like it was a question, and when I didn’t answer, he stood. I heard him walk away, his footfalls muffled on the thick carpet. Heard the doorknob turn in his hand.

“Aiden,” I said, half-hoping he was already gone.

“Yeah?”

Fuck.

“ Canyou—canstay ?”

At first I thought I might not have said it loud enough, he didn’t answer for so long. But just as I turned my head, wondering if I should clarify or tell him to go, he pushed the door shut again.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

I couldn’t decide which was worse—the fact that I’d asked him, or the fact that I was grateful he’d said yes.

He didn’t talk as he turned out the light. Didn’t talk as he walked around and settled on the far side of the bed. He didn’t say a word for so long that I’d begun to drift off again, lulled by the soft sound of his breathing in the dark.

“Good night, Nolan,” he whispered finally. “Wake me up if you’re gonna die, okay?”

I thought about pointing out that if I were going to die, I’d probably be too incapacitated to do much of anything, but words seemed really complicated just then, and before I’d found a way to string that sentence together, I’d fallen asleep.

It was hair that woke me up the next morning. Hair, tickling my nose, soft and smooth. Which was weird, because my hair wasn’t long enough to fall into my face like that.

I inhaled deeply, my eyes still closed. Something smelled good. Good, but foreign. I used herbal shampoo, but I was smelling citrus. Delicious, but wrong.

Then I felt something brush my chest, something warm and firm, shifting against me, and my eyes flew open.

What the hell? Where was I, and who was I holding in my arms?

I pushed back a few inches, my eyes widening as I took it all in. I was lying in bed, with Aiden of all people. My right arm was still trapped underneath him.

I looked around the room wildly. I was still at the Wisteria, still in the same room I’d been in for the past four weeks. Everything looked normal, but I had no idea what Aiden was doing in my bed, and—

Shit. I couldn’t even remember getting into bed. I couldn’t remember anything from last night. Everything after arriving down at the harbor for the festival was foggy.

“What the fuck?” I whispered, panic rising in my chest.

My left arm had been draped over Aiden’s body, holding him close to my chest. I brought that hand to my head. It felt curiously weightless. No headache, no pressure, but there was a footprint of something. Like sunspots, the afterimage of pain.

Aiden looked so peaceful, so quiet and still. He was facing me, and his eyes flickered back and forth under his eyelids, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He had a light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. I’d never noticed that before.

His lips were parted slightly, and some feeling I didn’t have a name for constricted my chest as I looked at him. But it was quickly drowned out by the growing realization that I could only remember one other day like this, one other time that I’d woken up with no memory of the night before.

These were different circumstances. Different bed, different city, different clothes—which was to say, at least I had clothes on this time.

But it was the same crumbling, detached feeling. The same fuzzy blank when I cast my mind back and tried to remember the night before. The same utter inability to explain how I’d ended up here.

Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed hard. It burned my esophagus.

“Fuck,” I said, my skin starting to crawl. “What the hell happened last night?”

My words woke Aiden up. He blinked sleepily, then smiled.

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.” His smile broadened. “ Alive and awake. That’s awesome!”

My brow furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

He frowned back at me and pushed up onto his elbows. “Do you…not remember?”

“Inviting you into my bed?” I said, trying to shove down the dread that rose in my chest. “No. No, I do not.”

Aiden sighed. “I guess that’s really not surprising.”

I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. He just stared at me, which really wasn’t helping me combat the urge to lash out, or run screaming, or both.

I swore I’d never let this happen again. I scrambled into a seated position. This wasn’t a conversation I could have lying down.

“Are you going to tell me, or am I just supposed to guess?” I asked, my voice strained. Fear licked at my throat.

“Trust you to find a way to blame me for this.” Aiden sat up too. “Allow me to enlighten you. Last night, about halfway into your second drink, you started acting really fucking weird. Slurring your words, zoning out, stumbling. When I said I thought you should lie down, you tried to take a nap on the bench we were sitting on. It took an hour just to get you back to the inn, you were so out of it. I think, somehow, you were roofied.”

My stomach plummeted a thousand feet. I’d known what was coming, known it in my bones the second I’d woken up, but I still broke out in a cold sweat. It had happened again.

“Did you have anything last night, other than the two glasses of punch I saw you drink?” Aiden asked after a moment. “Did you drink something else while I was getting those refills, or eat something weird that someone offered you?”

I shook my head, a numb kind of horror settling over my body. My skin felt too tight.

“Well, something happened,” he continued. “And whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I wanted to get you to a hospital, but you kind of lost it when I suggested that. You were really emphatic about not going. Not wanting people to see you.”

I swallowed hard as my stomach churned. I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing any more.

“You were kind of messed up. Like, crying and stuff.” Aiden gave me a tentative look. “I started to leave, but you asked me to stay, so I did.”

I had to close my eyes before I could ask the next question. “Did we—I mean, I didn’t try to—that is, we didn’t…do anything, did we?”

“Jesus, no! What the hell, do you really think I would do that? No.”

I opened my eyes to see Aiden staring at me, looking like I’d mortally offended him. Maybe I had. But I’d needed to ask.

Any other time, any other day, if you’d asked me if I thought Aiden would take advantage of a situation like that, I would have laughed. If Aiden had wanted to hook up, he’d just tell me. He wouldn’t try to trick me into it.

But this wasn’t a normal day or time, and I was way too freaked out to be thinking rationally right now.

“Anyway,” he said after a minute, “the point is that you didn’t die, and you don’t seem like you need to go to the hospital now, so we can concentrate on figuring out what the hell happened instead. Someone must have found a way to give you something, and if we can—”

“No,” I said, surprised by the force of my own voice. I shifted on the bed, scooting away from him. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Aiden, but I really couldn’t bear him trying to touch my shoulder or calm me down right now. “No. I don’t want to do that.”

“What?” He looked baffled. “Why wouldn’t you want to do that?”

“It just—it doesn’t matter, okay?”

“I’m pretty sure that if someone at the festival roofied you, it actually matters a fucking lot. It could be anyone. You don’t want to know who it was, or what the hell they were thinking?”

“No. I don’t care.”

I shuddered. The thought of Aiden going out and playing Nancy Drew, trying to track down the culprit, made me feel even sicker. I didn’t want anyone to know about this. Didn’t even want him to know, though it was too late for that now.

Aiden asking questions would only transform this into an event . Make it linger. Turn it into something else I had to deal with, another fuck-up in a life full of them. I just wanted it to disappear.

“Two seconds ago you were freaking out because you couldn’t remember how you ended up in bed with me, and now you don’t even want to know?” Aiden said.

“That’s not—”

“Or is it just me you take issue with? You can excuse being drugged, but you draw the line at having anything to do with me unless it’s—”

“Jesus, can you not ?” I was shaking, and I hated that he could see it. “Can you just not, for one second, make everything about you?”

I tried to hold still, tried to clamp down on my body, but I couldn’t stop shivering. Eventually, I just slumped forward, holding my face in my hands. Why couldn’t I get it together?”

“I’m sorry,” Aiden said after a minute. “Really, I am. I didn’t mean to upset you, and I’m not trying to make it about me. I just—”

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not your fault, okay? You’re not the one who should be apologizing. I should.”

“What do you have to apologize for?”

“This,” I growled, waving one hand around in a circle. “Me. Everything. Christ, I know this isn’t normal.”

“Dude, who cares about normal?” Aiden said.

“I do.” I looked up at him, begging him to understand what I couldn’t put into words. “Do you have any idea how hard I work at that? At being normal?”

“Why?” His eyebrows rose. “Normal’s boring.”

“Normal is safe!” I exploded. “Normal means you can go about your day without having a fucking nervous breakdown. Normal means you don’t get targeted for—fuck. Never mind. You wouldn’t get it.”

“You think I haven’t been targeted?”

I gave him a long look. “I think there are some experiences that you have missed out on, yes.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.” I glared at him. He glared back. I sighed. “Look. Thank you for last night. For taking care of me.” It was like swallowing a knife, saying those words, but I did mean them. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Aiden shrugged. “It’s fine. But I still don’t get why you don’t want to find out what happened.”

“Because I don’t want to know!” I shook my head. “Because I want it to go away. I want to forget it ever happened. Asking around, turning it into the investigation that you have in mind? That’s the opposite of what I want. Do you get that?”

“I guess. But if someone slipped something into your drink, they shouldn’t be able to just do that and get away with it.

“Look, I know you’re young, so maybe you haven’t realized this yet, but the world is seldom fair.”

“I’m not twelve , I know life isn’t fair. I just don’t get why you don’t care more.”

“Sometimes caring doesn’t look the way you expect it to,” I said heavily.

Something buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled out my phone. I had a text from my mom.

MOM: Hey, you free now?

“Look, I have to make a phone call,” I told Aiden. “I know we’re supposed to practice our bakes today, but can we push it off for an hour? I’d like to shower after I’ve talked to my mom.”

Aiden looked at me incredulously. “You really want to go down to the tent and practice baking right now? Like nothing even happened?”

“Yes.” I looked him right in the eye. “Yes, I really do.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “If that’s what you want. I’ll see you in an hour, I guess.”

He slid off the bed and left the room, closing the door behind him. I lay down, curling up and hugging my knees to my chest. I was alone. Finally. All alone.

I needed to call my mom back. And I would. In a minute.

But first, I just needed to lie here. Lie here, and watch the door, and fall apart in private.