She gritted her teeth together. “You’re being weird again.” She said it with the air of a childish playground insult.
But this was real. I was losing control. I racked and racked my brain, but I didn’t even have a flash of brushing my teeth this morning or putting on my deodorant.
I looked down to study what I was wearing. I was dressed in a pair of tight black denim jeans, a fitted black tank, a dark hoodie, and lace-up boots that I bought for a Halloween costume two years ago. “What is this outfit?” I asked, pinching the tank top’s fabric off my stomach.
Honor’s mouth twisted. “I don’t know. I figured you were making, like, a statement or something.” For her part, Honor was dressed in a delicate cream cardigan and a knee-length plaid skirt.
“Of what?” I exclaimed.
She gave an exaggerated shrug as though I was missing the point entirely. “Who cares. Everybody will probably be copying your outfit by tomorrow anyway. But the tragic teen thing? That is getting a little old.”
I tilted my head back and laughed, not caring if I sounded like a catatonic lunatic. “Oh, it’s getting old, is it? I’m sorry, Honor, that my little phase”—I curled my fingers into air quotes—“isn’t quite working for you.” Honor’s face fell.
I let my foot off the brake. The car gave a little bump as it settled into park.
“I—I’m sorry,” I said. My sister looked as though she was frightened I was about to tell her that the Easter bunny didn’t exist.
The Easter bunny didn’t exist. There were no magical Homecoming nights or balloon-arch fairy tales. No matter what I did, I was losing my grip on everything that was mine.
“I just need a second to think.” I pressed two fingers to my temples and rubbed, hard.
“Cassidy, you’re scaring me.” Honor hugged her arms across her stomach.
I turned to her and put my hands on her shoulders. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to scare you. Everything’s fine. I just … felt a little faint is all.”
Honor’s forehead relaxed, ironing out the wrinkles. “Maybe you should call in sick.”
Something about her worry had shifted me into the calm one. Take charge. I could do this. “And miss the first game of the play-offs? I think not.”
She grinned. I felt a wave of guilt at the way she looked at me. Like I was a hero. The panic was now only lapping at me, surging and then receding in my veins. I felt helpless. Nothing I’d done was working. I was lost. Alone. All I could do was move forward and pray the ship didn’t sink before I got wherever it was I was going.
But I was taking on water fast.
I pinched Honor’s cheek and gave it a hard shake that left red indents where my thumb had been. She squealed in protest. Maybe, just maybe, we looked almost normal.
Outside the car, the sun microwaved my face. I lowered my head and trudged forward in my ridiculous black boots.
All this and I hadn’t even taken Sunshine last night. That was the only thing that felt true. And as proof, a round of tremors quaked through my body.
Now more than ever, I craved the flood of warmth I got when I’d first taken Sunshine. When I glanced around at all the smiling, laughing faces, it seemed like everyone else must have a secret stash. How else could they all be so darn happy?
From a few steps behind, I could hear the crunch of Honor’s shoes following me. The first bell rang as I entered through the glass doors and was sucked into the soulless hallways of Hollow Pines High.
I may have been losing my mind, but I didn’t think I was imagining the dozens of sets of eyes trained right at me. I moved; they moved. I hurried my steps.
I should be used to people watching me. I was somebody at this school, which meant that, for the rest of the student body, keeping up with my social life was practically a sporting event. But today was different.
I navigated the crowded corridors, trying to ignore the feeling that I was an animal at the zoo, trying to ignore the fact that I still couldn’t remember how I’d gotten to school.
Just go with it, I told myself, meanwhile wondering whether the cough syrup had kept me in a deep sleep last night and what I’d done with the strips of tape. Had I peeled them off? Cut through them? I couldn’t recall.
Paisley was leaning up against the locker next to mine, waiting for me. “So you’re alive,” she said.
“Morning,” I answered without making eye contact. I spun the dial on my combination lock three times until I heard a click.
“Nice try.” She pushed my locker door closed. I blinked at the wall of aluminum siding. “You caused two thousand dollars worth of damage to my mother’s wedding china. You are not getting off that easy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Last night. Maybe staying home to study was the way to go.” My face must have gone ghostly white because she grabbed me by the elbow, turned me so that my back was to the hallway traffic, and drew me close. “What is with you?” she asked. Her breath smelled like wintergreen. “I don’t even recognize you anymore. The drugs. Your little stunt on the balcony.”