Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A proper night’s sleep helps me put my memories back together again. When I wake up, I’m gasping for air and drenched in sweat. The same images of Hunter that haunted me in my dreams come rushing back once I’m awake—his lips on my neck, his grip on my wrist. I look down at my trembling hands, the knuckles on my right hand bruised and covered in dried blood, and realize it wasn’t a dream after all.
And neither was what I found on his phone.
The sadness feels ten times heavier sober. Well, hungover. It presses down on my temples like a migraine until my vision blurs. I don’t realize that’s just because of the tears until one drops onto my hand.
I was so close. All the pieces were falling into place, and now I’m back where I started, with one less suspect. Knowing Hunter didn’t push Solina isn’t the worst part either. It’s the idea of a second person that kills me. That two people had enough hate in their hearts to hurt the person I loved more than anything. Solina was as pure and bright as her namesake. How could anyone want to hurt her?
How could anyone want to take her away from me?
Thankfully, Claudia’s already gone for the day, her bed neatly made. I take the opportunity to bury my head in my hands and fight off the overwhelming urge to sob. My body is limp as I roll back onto my side and press my nose to the pillow. It barely smells like Solina anymore.
Everything about Kingswood is exhausting. From playing someone else to keeping up with the breakneck pace to having to constantly look over my shoulder to make sure no one’s coming after me. I need a break. I’ve needed one for a long time now.
But I didn’t come this far to quit.
I roll toward my nightstand and reach for my phone. Tiffany’ll be on my ass if I don’t check in with her this morning. My brow furrows when I’m met with a glass of water instead.
My phone charger sits unplugged beside the water, a bottle of aspirin, and a note.
Hope you’re feeling okay this morning. Take these if you have to.
I pop the bottle open and down two of the pills along with all the water. With the aspirin washed down, I gingerly hop off the bed and search around for my phone. It’s not in the pocket of my mud-crusted jeans, or my jacket—though, thankfully, the switchblade is still where I left it. There’s nothing beneath the bed or behind my desk, or even in the drawers of my dresser.
Last night is still a frazzled mess, but I can remember the bin of phones spilling onto the ground. Searching through the mess for Hunter’s. Did I put mine down when I grabbed his? I’ll have to figure out a way to call Tiffany and ask her to check its location.
I glance over at where I set down Hunter’s phone. Unlike my own, I’d had the sense to shove it into my pocket before blacking out. He’ll probably have a replacement by the end of the day. Still, I pick it up and navigate my way to his Settings again. I switch on his location services and share it with my number. Before I close out, I make sure to wipe the notification in our sparse text thread.
He’s not a killer, but I still don’t trust him.
Tiffany once said the only true hangover cure is food. I’m not sure if the same goes for post–acid blackout, but for my sake, I hope it does.
I take a quick shower, pull on a clean pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and bolt across campus to the dining hall. While the thought of running into Hunter, Poppy, or Gabe makes my stomach ache with a different kind of pang, I can’t hide in my bed forever. A room filled with students and faculty is as safe a place to see them as any.
I’m able to narrowly sneak in ten minutes before they stop serving breakfast. The pickings are going to be slim, but I’m used to taking what I can get.
Despite the time, the dining hall is more packed than I’ve ever seen it, most of the tables taken up with trays overflowing with extra servings of eggs and bacon. Saturdays must be for nursing hangovers. The heads that aren’t bent over their much-needed carbs turn my way as I step into the room. Conversations and laughter turn to whispers, everyone hiding behind their hands as I make my way to the serving area. I’d brush it off as all in my head if a girl at the oatmeal station didn’t run off when I stepped up behind her, leaving granola splattered across the counter. I check my reflection in the steel tin, scanning my face for anything gossip-worthy. The gash on my forehead is pretty nasty, but Claudia was able to clean up the worst of it last night.
The whispers don’t stop when I walk out to the dining area. They follow me as I wade through the sea of tables, looking for an empty one that’s far enough away from my attentive crowd that I won’t feel like a zoo animal while I eat.
Instead, I spot a familiar face across the room, alone and hunched over a textbook. The gaps in my memory of what happened last night slowly start to trickle in. Me stumbling to the ground and hitting my head against the jagged edge of a rock. A face swimming in and out of view. Gabe grabbing my wrist.
“What happened last night?” I ask in lieu of a greeting, slamming my tray down across from Gabe. Oatmeal splatters up from the bowl, dropping onto his notebook. Now that Hunter’s off the hook, I have to start looking elsewhere, and I’ve had a bad feeling about this little shit since the day I got here.
He looks up at me with a scowl, his clothing more disheveled than usual.
“You were the last person I saw last night,” I continue when he doesn’t reply. “What happened ?” I take the chance to push my luck. There’s no way he’s going to try anything when we’re surrounded by people. If I can get him to crack, slip up, something , I can work out how to take him down. It’ll be a fairer fight than going up against Hunter would’ve been. Gabe barely has any extra height or weight on me.
He rolls his eyes, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal arms so pale I can see the ice-blue veins along his wrists. “I found you passed out at the bonfire, so I took you back to campus.”
His answer is nonchalant, but I don’t buy it. “Then how did I end up on a bench?”
He lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Because you insisted that you didn’t need my help and that I should leave you alone.”
“And you thought that was a good idea?” I snap. “If Claudia hadn’t found me and brought me home, I could’ve frozen to death out there.”
He stiffens, his jaw locked in a deep-set frown as he looks down at his cuffed sleeve. “You made a very convincing argument,” he says finally, before holding up his right hand, revealing a row of teeth-shaped gashes along the edge of his palm, all the way up his pinkie finger.
I swallow hard, running through everything I can remember for anything involving Gabe. I wasn’t myself last night, but I’m not an animal. Hunter got what was coming to him, but I wouldn’t have lashed out at Gabe if I didn’t have a reason to.
Before I can grill him for more details, a hand clamps down on his shoulder—a familiar antique ring glimmering like a wink.
Hunter’s as put together as ever. Thick wool coat over black jeans and brown leather Chelsea boots. Product keeps his golden waves locked in place and high in the air. But the costume doesn’t distract from his swollen right eye, or the purple bruises marring the elegant curve of his cheekbone. The murmurs around us cut short when Hunter and I lock eyes, everyone waiting to see what happens next.
“Looking for this?” Hunter holds up my phone before tossing it onto the table.
I don’t say anything, resisting the urge to lunge for it and tuck it back into my pocket, holding Hunter’s gaze instead. Biting back a smile, I finally let myself take a good look at his eye. Purple bruises dot his brow bone too, and his eyelid’s swollen almost entirely shut. The cut my ring left behind is already fading to a pale yellow, but you can tell it’ll leave a mark.
“Thanks,” I reply through gritted teeth when Hunter doesn’t budge, and grab my phone.
The heat of Hunter’s glare follows me as I pick up my tray and cross the dining hall, the whispers breaking out in full force once I’ve walked away. I’m considering tossing my oatmeal into a to-go cup and taking it back to my room when I spot the only friendly face in the room.
Claudia almost jumps out of her seat when I set my tray down across from her. “What’re you doing?” she says, pulling out her earbuds. She looks around vigilantly, as if my presence has marked us as targets for an ambush.
I take a bite of my oatmeal. “Eating breakfast.”
I’m prepared for her to roll her eyes, but all she does is lean in closer. “How’re you feeling?” she whispers, even though it’s not a secret that I look like shit.
“I’ve been worse.” The ache in my shoulders has dulled thanks to the aspirin. “Thank you again for last night.”
She nods but doesn’t reply, tugging at a loose strand on the cuff of her sweater instead.
“Do you want me to leave?” I ask, holding my hands up in surrender. “I don’t bite, I swear.”
“N-no, you’re fine.” She trails off, glancing somewhere over my shoulder. Whatever she sees is enough to make the color drain from her cheeks. She keeps her head down, letting her hair form a curtain between us as she turns back to her notebook. “You probably shouldn’t sit here. With me, I mean.”
Not for the first time, my stomach twists at the thought of what Claudia thinks of me. Of Solina. There’s still so much I don’t know, or understand, about her life here. Claudia sits somewhere in between. An enigma. A puzzle I can almost solve.
Solina was the kindest person I knew, but I didn’t know the person she was here. The Solinas Claudia and I each knew are as good as strangers. People we’re afraid of. People we don’t know if we can trust.
“Maybe I want to,” I say.
She blinks up at me with those wide brown eyes. “Why?”
“Because I like you,” I reply, testing my luck. There’s no haze to hide behind, no wind roaring beyond our window to mask what I said.
Something changes in her eyes and the set of her jaw. Her shoulders relax, her expression softens, but she still hasn’t let me in. There’s something unspoken—a secret history—between her and the girl she thinks I am. I hold my breath as I wait for her next move, for her to lash out or storm off. But all she does is turn back to her notebook in silence.
She doesn’t tell me to leave.
And that’s enough for now.