She was trembling completely now, biting so hard into her lower lip that her mouth filled with the hot, metallic taste of blood. Brynna blindly shook her head from side to side.
Her mother came to her side immediately, but her dad stood in the doorway looking both parts helpless and angry. He used one hand to pick up her laptop and the other to unplug it.
“You’re supposed to be grounded.”
“Adam, can you forget about the rules for two seconds? Something happened to Bryn.”
“I understand that, but forgetting about the rules isn’t going to help her.” His eyes flicked over Brynna’s, but she was too scared to care. She wanted to curl into her mother and cry, to let everything out, every last detail of the last fourteen months. But she couldn’t. She was supposed to be better. She was supposed to be starting a new life.
But something from the old wouldn’t let her go…
“There was—I got a call from—” Brynna looked at both of her parents, each one wearing an expectant expression. She couldn’t tell them.
They’ll know you killed her, a little voice at the back of her head whispered. They’ll know you’re crazy, another one confirmed. They’ll have you locked up…again.
Brynna dropped her head into her hands, using her fingertips to grip at the skin on her forehead as she pinched her eyes shut.
“I just got scared is all.”
She didn’t have to look up to know that the loud whoosh of air she heard was her father trying to regroup. She wasn’t surprised when she felt her mother’s palm on the back of her neck, gentle and warm.
“That’s okay, Brynna. We know that this is difficult for you.”
But Brynna didn’t want to hear another Dr. Rother-ism. She was tired of hearing her mother utter phrases from the Alateen handbook—the one handed out to the parents of every teen in Alcoholics Anonymous, empty words that were meant to be helpful or inspiring but only made Brynna want to escape all over again. She was tired of her father working hard to act concerned when Brynna knew the only thing he was doing was biding his time until his next trip, until his next flight where he could be a thousand miles away from his drunken, screwed-up daughter.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pushing away from her mother. “I’m sorry I worried you guys. I think I should probably just get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”
Her mother eyed her suspiciously but eventually kissed Brynna’s forehead and got up to leave. Her father blew her a kiss and offered a “sleep well, honey,” and they both shut the door, leaving Brynna in silence. She crawled to the wall and clicked off the lights, then made her way into her bed, not bothering to change her clothes or take off her makeup. At least in sleep, she wouldn’t have to think.
???
“Bryn! Bryn, is this going to be an every morning thing now?”
Brynna’s mother was standing a half inch from her bedside. Brynna tried to open eyes that felt glued shut.
“What?” she finally mumbled.
She heard her mother smack the top of the alarm clock, quieting the fuzzy quips of two morning DJs as they screamed about something. Then there was a hand on her arm, shaking her violently.
“Okay, okay, I’m up!” She propped herself up on one elbow, her body screaming in protest as every muscle tightened and ached.
“You look awful. Did you sleep at all last night?”
The details of the previous night flooded back, and Brynna’s eyes were wide now, blinking at her mother. She cleared her throat. “Uh, no, I slept fine. Just tired, I guess. Sorry about the alarm clock.”
Brynna threw her blankets off and went straight for the bathroom, her mother’s eyes hot on the back of her neck. She didn’t want to face her, was afraid that every detail of last night’s call was written on her face—or at least the guilt of it.
“I’ll be downstairs in a minute,” she called over her shoulder as she turned on the faucet, hoping her mother would get the message and go away.
Brynna stepped under the hot stream of water, letting it break over her head and cascade down her shoulders. The hot water felt like pinpricks on every inch of skin. Brynna was still cold, still trembling as though she had jumped off the pier into that frigid water just last night.
???
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Lauren started.
“Or barfed up,” Evan finished with a good-natured chuckle. “What happened to you?”
Brynna slumped in her seat, the mingling scents of cafeteria food and student bodies making her stomach churn. She snapped to attention every time she heard a sound—the ringing of a cell phone, some girl’s shrill laughter—and as a result, she was exhausted, her own body weighted and pulling her down. She propped her chin in her hands, too tired to even offer Evan and Lauren a good quip back.
“Bryn, seriously, are you sick or something?” Darcy’s voice was soothing at her ear, and Brynna shook her head, then glanced at the concerned faces of her friends.
“No,” she finally muttered. “I just didn’t sleep well.”