Chapter 15
Unfortunately, my instincts are spot on. I see Remi again, not two full days later, during my lunch break. He’s behind me and Iris in line at the coffee shop on campus, and if looks could kill, I’d be long dead already. This guy truly despises me.
“Like, seriously?” Iris says, trying to comfort me after we place our orders and pay the cashier. “How obvious is he trying to be? It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“No idea,” I reply. “But whatever imaginary artistic threat he thinks I pose to him, it must be really bad. And I’m not gonna lie, it kinda makes me feel like a badass.”
Iris laughs loudly. “Hell yeah! The only reason Remi-Fucking-Blake hates you is because your art is making it big, and his isn’t. Let him wallow in his jealousy.”
Just then, the barista calls out our orders, “Earl Grey tea and iced lavender latte.”
Shoulder-to-shoulder, Iris and I walk toward the counter to retrieve our drinks.
I reach out to take my tea, but someone beats me to it. The fingernails on the hand around my cup are painted varying shades of blue and red, reminding me of a too-hot flame.
“You would be a tea person,” Remi says with venom in his voice. “Just as bland in real life as you are on the canvas.” His thin-lipped smirk makes my stomach churn.
“Can you please let go of my drink?” I ask as evenly as I can, meeting his heated gaze.
“Seriously, Remi?” Iris asks, thoroughly exasperated. “Haven’t you reached your asshole quota already?”
Remi scowls at Iris before returning his attention to me. “Enjoy yourself at Lizbeth while you can. Something tells me you’ll be running for the hills soon.” I get a strong whiff of his stale breath as he removes his hand from my cup, and I swallow against the urge to gag.
Then he’s gone, as quickly as he arrived. I blink after him as nausea rolls through me in waves.
“God, it feels like he’s put a damper on this entire week,” Iris whines as we walk toward an empty table.
“At least we have tonight to look forward to,” I remind her. Our group of friends has plans to go on a haunted hay ride a few towns over.
“Ah, right. Friday, October 13th,” she affirms before taking a long drink of her latte. “So much creepy shit to look forward to. Yay.”
I laugh at Iris’s superstition, removing the lid off my tea before gently blowing at the steam. The scent of bergamot fills my nostrils, and the tense muscles in my shoulders relax in response. As I sip, my stomach finally settles down.
Iris and I chat while we enjoy our drinks, about everything and nothing at all, the way only good friends can, but time slips by too quickly.
“Ugh, time to get to my next class,” I grumble, checking the time on my wristwatch as I stand.
“Yeah, yeah,” Iris says dismissively, though the creases around her mouth show her disappointment while she waves me away. “See you later.”
Wispy swirls of fog engulf me as I push through the coffee shop doors, chilling me almost instantly.
Just as it’s been all week long, the gray sky overhead is spitting a constant stream of icy drizzle onto the world.
Stupidly, I didn’t pack an umbrella before I left the dorm this morning, so I toss my coat’s hood up over my head, which only offers minimal protection.
Thankfully the walk to the Picasso Building, where most of the general studies classes are held, is a short one.
As I’m climbing the stairs to the fourth floor, I struggle out of my raincoat, eager to be free of the extra layer trapping heat against my skin. When I take my seat in class and get out my textbook, I flinch at a sudden and intense vibrating sensation taking root in my hands.
That’s weird. Tea doesn’t usually give me the jitters.
Eyes closed, I drag a slow lungful of stale classroom air in through my nose and out through my mouth, feeling the breath travel all the way to the tips of my shaking fingers. When my eyelids flutter open again, all of my focus is on the professor and their lecture.
But it only lasts so long. I’m able to focus for all of five minutes before I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that something is wrong.
My face, back, and underarms are slick with sweat, and my mind races like a prized racehorse gunning for gold.
I can only hold out for another few minutes before I shove my belongings back in my bag and race out of the room as inconspicuously as I can.
By the time I’m back outside, it’s fully raining. But now I’m grateful for the cool droplets splattering against my face, grounding me in the moment. You’ll be fine, I reason with myself, shaking my head. Nothing to worry about. You just have to ride out the jitters.
I jog back to my dorm, talking to myself in my head the entire way and trying every tool in my mental health toolkit to wrangle in my anxiety, but nothing works.
By the time I make it back to my dorm room, I’m drenched in a salty mixture of sweat and rain, and I’m starting to hyperventilate, chest heaving despite the abundance of air in my lungs.
I stumble into my room and trip over a stray pair of Iris’s shoes.
“You’re back quick,” Iris says with her back to me, working on her laptop at her desk. “Was class let out early?”
“No, I—I—” I stammer. “I’m not feeling well.”
“Why? What’s wr—” She cuts herself off when she finally looks over her shoulder at me.
“Maeve, oh my God,” She’s next to me in an instant, wrapping me in her arms. “You’re shaking like a leaf,” she exclaims, her eyes wide with worry.
I say through chattering teeth, “I—I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Iris strips me of my backpack, coat, and shoes and wastes no time wrapping me in a blanket. Insistently, she drags me toward her bed.
As we pass her desk, she snatches up her phone and brings it to her mouth, recording an audio message. “Emmy, get over here now. It’s an emergency.”
Iris’s thumb hits send and within seconds, Emmy bounds into the room. “What’s wrong?”
“I think Maeve’s been drugged, but I’m not sure,” Iris explains before pursing her lips.
Drugged?
“Tell me everything,” Emmy demands, coming to sit next to me on the bed.
Iris catches her up to speed in a few minutes, and then I explain all of my symptoms in frightened, stuttering sentences.
“It sounds like you were dosed with a stimulant. Probably an amphetamine, if I had to guess. If you’ve never taken it before, it could definitely make you feel like this the first time around, even on a normal dose,” Emmy explains.
“No,” I say as emphatically as I can through quivering lips. “I’ve taken Adderall before. This feels similar, maybe, but bigger, scarier.”
Emmy nods at me before gazing up at Iris. Softly, she mutters, “Could be an overdose then.”
A choked sound escapes my lips unbidden. “Will I be okay?” I ask, fresh tears spouting from my eyes.
“Yeah, babe,” she says reassuringly, raising a hand to wipe away a falling tear. “It’s just scary as hell, and it’ll probably last a while.”
“How long?”
She answers with a remorseful expression on her face, “Eight to twelve hours. At least.”
“Fuck,” I curse as my body is racked by a fresh wave of tremors.
“Who could’ve done this?” Emmy asks Iris angrily.
She’s being protective of me, I realize, and if I could concentrate for a damn second, I’d melt at the sentiment.
“I don’t know, I—” Iris’s eyes widen further. “Fuck. Maeve, oh fuck! It was Remi.”
“Remi Blake?” Emmy asks, with lethal intent in her gaze. “Again?”
“Yes,” Iris confirms, speaking so fast she stumbles over her words. “He harassed Maeve again today, at the café, when he put his fucking vile, slithery ass hands on Maeve’s drink! He must have dosed it while we were arguing.”
“That’s got to be it,” Emmy says. She looks back at me, fury etched into the lines of her face. “That’s it. I’m going to beat his fucking ass.”
She stands up and tries to stride for the door, but Iris blocks her path. “Emmy, no. Think about it. We have no proof. If you attack him out of nowhere, you’ll be the one that gets in trouble, not him.”
“Iris is right,” I reason. “What’s done is done. There’s nothing to do now except get through it, which, I already know, I’m going to desperately need you both for, because I’m scared as hell right now.” More tears fall from my eyes, finding purchase in my hair.
“Oh, babe,” Emmy whispers in a pained cadence. “Okay, okay. We’re not going anywhere, I promise.”
They dim the lights down low in the room, fill multiple bottles with fresh, ice-cold water, and climb into Iris’s bed with me.
And, for the next eight to twelve hours, I’m sandwiched between my new best friends.
They play with my hair, whisper calming words, tell funny stories, and play old movies on Iris’s laptop in the background that we only half pay attention to.
Emmy tells us about the time she was roofied at a party during her senior year of high school.
Thankfully, her friends noticed her strange behavior right away and brought her to the nearest emergency room before an assault could occur.
Then Iris tells us about her experience going through cancer treatment; about the slew of medication she had to take and how horrible they’d made her feel for months at a time.
By the time midnight rolls around, my heart rate is nearing normal, and Iris and Emmy are sleeping peacefully next to me. And even though my mind and body are more spent than ever, sleep evades me. But Emmy had warned that’s a pretty common side effect of the drugs, so I’m not too concerned.
I’m far more concerned that, despite every ounce of willpower I can muster, my thoughts remain plagued by Remi Blake.
How can a stranger hate me so much to do something this despicable?
It makes no sense. I’m not an actual threat.
But to him, somehow, I am? Maybe he sees me as some kind of a roadblock on his path to success.
Still, that’s no excuse to go drugging people against their will.
For a moment, I consider fighting back. An eye for an eye. But guilt instantly constricts my throat; how could I even entertain the idea of doing something like that? Is being here at this school already changing me that much?
No. I’ll follow my original plan and avoid Remi as much as I can. This issue he has with me is his curse to bear, not mine.
I groan when the first rays of morning light shine through the windows of our dorm room. I have no idea how I’m going to get through today, but I know I can’t afford to waste this precious, unstructured time. My midterm project is waiting.
Besides, I can’t hide away in my room forever. The world has always been a scary place. I’d just received a terrifyingly cruel reminder of that fact.