Teen Hyde (High School Horror Story #2)

Sunlight trickled through the blinds in my room, warming my face. I buried my head deeper into the pillow and clung to Sleep Space as though I could stop the pull of gravity.

The door of my bedroom creaked open. Through it, the scent of bacon wafted, causing my stomach to growl. When was the last time I’d eaten? I wondered as I finally lost my hold on Sleep Space. My last meal had to have been dinner. Did I remember to eat dinner? I couldn’t recall. I took a deep breath in and my mouth watered.

“Cassidy?” My little sister’s tentative voice came from the doorway.

When I propped myself up on my elbows, I had to remind myself she wasn’t so little anymore. Honor was already one semester into her freshman year at Hollow Pines, tall for her age with cheeks splashed with freckles and hair two shades lighter than my own that fell to the crooks of her elbows. She’d been named after my grandmother, who passed away a few months before Honor was born, and ever since, the name had been a constant source of anxiety for her.

“Morning,” I said.

“Mom told me to tell you that she made breakfast,” she said, taking a step onto my carpet. “I told her you probably wouldn’t come down, but she made me tell you anyway.”

“Okay … well, what’d she make?” I moved a pillow behind my back and propped myself upright.

Honor looked at me like I was pulling a prank on her. “Mom’s making chocolate chip pancakes and Dad’s cooking bacon. Why?”

I licked my lips. My stomach growled loudly enough for both of us to hear. A smile tugged at Honor’s lips.

“You had me at chocolate. I’m coming down.” I wrestled my legs free from the covers.

“Uh, Cass?”

“Yeah?” My bare feet hovered a few inches off the pink floral rug laid across the hardwood floor.

“Did you go to a party last night?”

“Yeah…” I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the vanity across from my bed. “Oh.” I was wearing the same dark skinny jeans from last night and a fitted black shirt. Mascara and lipstick were smeared on the side of my face so that I resembled the Joker. I covered my mouth with my right hand and stifled a giggle. “I guess I need to clean up first, huh?”

Honor’s face brightened. “I’ll stall Mom?”

“Don’t let any of the chocolate chips get eaten without me.”

She grinned and scampered off. I heard the sound of her footsteps fading down the stairs. My chest squeezed as I remembered that this was the first conversation in weeks that involved me responding with more than one word.

Wiping the last threads of sleep from my eyes, I made my way into the bathroom and twisted the nozzle on the showerhead. Steam filled the room, fogging up the mirror, and I quickly stripped off my clothes, which reeked of smoke and alcohol, and jumped under the downpour.

I’d never fallen asleep in my clothes from the night before. Why hadn’t I changed when I’d gotten home? I closed my eyes and let the water cascade over my head. Actually, I had no recollection of getting home, period. I ran my fingers through my soaked mane, racking my brain for the last thing that I could remember. My fingers reached the ends of the front strands of hair on the right side too quickly. I felt around the chopped-off edge like I was touching the end of a missing limb and suddenly the sound of a scissor snip replayed in my mind. Liam barging into the bathroom, the tiny, yellow pill, and then … Sunshine.

Yes, the last thing I remembered was a warmth spreading through my hands, feet, and limbs as I danced gleefully around the party with Liam.

Here in the shower, I noticed that I was smiling at the memory. Well, I noticed that and that the water was beginning to get cold. I didn’t feel hungover. I had no headaches or stomachaches or grogginess. As I stepped out of the shower, I realized that I felt better than I had in weeks.

I ran a towel over my skin, but when I got to my left hand, I observed a dark smudge on the back. I held it up to the light to study, but I couldn’t make out what it was other than an inky smear. That was odd. I put the back of my hand underneath the sink faucet and rubbed at the blotch with my thumb until it disappeared.

As the steam evaporated, I stared at my reflection. Bright eyes stared back at me. For the first time in a long time, I had the urge to comb my hair, put on eyeliner, and wear real clothes. I couldn’t remember the end of the party or how I’d gotten home last night, but … so what? After I took the Sunshine, maybe I’d had too much to drink. Maybe I’d actually partied like I used to and had one of those miraculous mornings without a hangover. Clearly, I was fine. In fact, I was better than fine. I was happier than I’d been since before I’d met Adam, since before Knox died, since before that night in Dearborn.

Dearborn.