Brynna looked toward the voice and started. “Evan?”
He looked down at her, something in his eyes. Mr. Fallbrook paused then leaned into Teddy and Brynna. “You two wait here. I’ll be right back.”
The second Mr. Fallbrook disappeared around the corner, Brynna felt her head and shoulders being swept up and her stiff legs being lifted. Her head flopped to the side and she looked at Evan.
“You’re helping me?” she asked, using everything she had left to move her lips.
Evan didn’t answer, but he didn’t move his hand from her calf where it was resting.
???
The room was dark when Brynna opened her eyes. She was uncomfortable, pinned down by a heavy duvet and blankets, her body aching with even the most miniscule of movements. She blinked and tried to make out shapes in the darkness, finally pushing herself up to sitting. She sucked in a nervous breath and pressed her hands up against her chest when she realized she was wearing a strappy tank top she didn’t recognize. Suddenly, the light flicked on and she blinked repeatedly, pressing a palm in front of her face to block out the light.
“Brynna?”
Darcy was in front of her in a pair of extra-baggy flannel pajama bottoms and a tank that matched Brynna’s. Her homecoming makeup was still on and her sparkly, smoky doe eyes looked out of place with her muted lips and sloppy hairdo.
“Where am I?”
“You’re at my place. Evan, Lauren, and Teddy are downstairs. We didn’t want to take you home—we didn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“You didn’t? Why? I—I thought you all hated me.”
Darcy let out a deep breath. “It took some convincing to get Evan and Lauren to come around. Teddy said you swore you didn’t do it. And besides, you looked so pitiful tonight…”
“The punch.” Brynna’s throat was achingly dry and her words were hoarse. Darcy came to the bedside and opened a bottle of water, handing it to Brynna.
“It was Meatball.”
Brynna drank half the bottle. “Meatball?”
“He spiked the punch. A whole weird concoction of stuff—booze, drugs. Fallbrook called the police.”
“Did he call my parents too?”
Darcy shook her head, her arms threaded in front of her chest. “Evan texted them. They know you’re here.”
Brynna paused, playing with the cap from her bottle. “Did you tell them about Erica?”
Darcy sat softly on the edge of the bed and smoothed the duvet over Brynna’s feet. “I didn’t tell them anything, Bryn. There’s nothing to tell.”
Brynna nodded, her eyes locking on Darcy’s. She wanted to believe her friend, but there was something dark, something nagging on the periphery. Something that Brynna knew she should pay attention to, but the fog of the dance, the punch, was too much, and she couldn’t make it out.
“Thanks,” she said simply. “For everything.”
When Brynna went home, her parents were seated at the kitchen table, her dad silently reading a newspaper, her mom in her funky bifocals, sketching absently on the edge of her napkin.
Her father looked up first, and for a split second, the world hung, suspended. Brynna waited for the drug test to be slid across the table or for her packed suitcase to be handed to her as they took her back to Woodbriar. Her stomach lurched though there was nothing in it; she had been throwing up all morning at Darcy’s house. Her lips were cracked and parched and her throat was bone dry.
“So,” her father said, setting down his newspaper. “How was it?”
Brynna blinked, waiting for the snarl.
“The dance?” she asked meekly.
Her mother dropped her pencil and pushed out the empty chair next to her. “Well, come on, don’t keep us in suspense!”
“Your mother and I were very happy to receive your text. Thank you for being so responsible, hon.”
Brynna touched her cell phone in her pocket and slid into the chair her mother offered. Under the table, she searched her text log to see a text she never sent:
Going to spend the night at Darcy’s house. You have her parents’ number if you want to check with them. That OK?
Her hackles went up and she pressed her fingers to her forehead. Was she so messed up she forgot she sent the text? No, she thought. Evan. Darcy said he sent the text. The night came back to her in painful blips and pieces.
“Bryn?”
“Sorry,” she yawned. “I’m just tired. Darcy and I stayed up talking half the night.”
“Well, you’ve got a couple hours before we have to go if you want to take a little cat nap.”
Brynna stiffened. “Where are we going?”
Her parents exchanged a glance, and the hint of joviality was gone. “Today is Erica’s memorial, sweetheart. Did you forget?”
Brynna fought a grimace. “No, I didn’t forget.”
???
Brynna stared into her closet, her fingers walking over her hangers as she looked at the same bunch of clothes over and over again. Her homecoming dress—or Erica’s dress—was draped over the back of the chair. She glanced at it once before shoving it into the depths with a slight shudder.