“I can’t believe that happened,” I said, bent over the sink. “Talk about humiliating.”
“It was probably just the cigarette,” Cyn replied. “Or the fact that that guy was a major douche bag. I thought he looked like trouble.”
I rinsed and spit. “Major douche bag” was only the half of it.
“Is he an ex?” she asked hesitantly.
“No.”
I didn’t say any more, and she didn’t prod. I gargled and spit again, then turned off the water. We went back outside, and an old white Honda was sitting there.
“Come on,” she said. “You’re getting a ride.”
“I can walk. It’s not that far.”
She pointed to the car, and her eyes went wide. “Get. In.”
Her tone told me not to argue, so I followed orders. Cyn’s mom didn’t say anything as I got into the backseat, and Cyn was the one to ask for directions when she got into the front.
They dropped me off, and the house was silent when I walked in. That made me nervous.
“Caspian?” I called. “Are you here?”
There was no answer.
I headed to my bedroom as fast as I could, trying to quell the rising panic in my stomach. Where is he? Why isn’t he answering me? Did something happen?
Pushing open the bedroom door, my heart sank straight to my feet when I saw someone lying on the bed.
Vincent’s here again.
I thought I was going to have a heart attack. My knees threatened to give out, and little black spots sprung up at the edges of my vision. Breathe … I was forgetting to breathe. I took a huge gasp of air and put one hand on the wall to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall right over. And then the person on the bed sat up.
It almost felt like my heart was going to seize up again, only this time out of relief when I saw that it was Caspian.
“Abbey?” he said. “What are you …? Are you okay?”
I clutched my chest. Caspian rubbed his eyes, and then he got up and came over to me. I put up a finger in response. “Just a minute. Just give me a minute. I think I’m having a heart attack. Twice.”
He looked around. “What time is it? I was supposed to meet you at school. What happened?”
“I waited for you, but you never came. And then …” I glanced back at the bed, putting two and two together. “Were you sleeping?”
Caspian ran a hand through his hair, messing the back up a bit, and he glanced at the bed too. “I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened. One minute I was here and it was eleven o’clock. Then the next …” Realization dawned, and his look of confusion turned to anger. “I can’t believe I fell asleep!”
The sleeping thing concerned me, but I needed to wash off the remnants of seeing Vincent again before I could think about what it all meant. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it. I’m just going to go take a bath.”
A strange look crossed his face as I passed by. “Is that smoke?” he asked. “And vomit?”
Embarrassment filled me. “Yeah. Cyn was waiting for her mom too, and she was smoking outside. I shared her cigarette and it didn’t agree with me. Hence the hurling.”
I limped into the bathroom and started pulling towels down from the cupboard.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Caspian said.
“I don’t. I mean, I never did before. This was just something new I wanted to try. Figured I wouldn’t get another chance, so why not?” I turned on the faucet and adjusted the water temperature.
“Is this … going to be a permanent thing?” he asked slowly, a worried look on his face.
“God, no. Once and done. Now, can we please not talk about it anymore?”
He nodded, and I shut the door behind me. All I needed was a good soak in some hot water, and then I’d be ready to tell Caspian the important part.
About Vincent.
* * *
It wasn’t until later that night that I was able to work up my courage to tell him about what else had happened. He’d just finished reading three chapters of Jane Eyre, and I didn’t want to ruin the perfect moment. Time felt suspended when it was just me and him, together in our own little world, away from everything and everyone. Nothing mattered except the words on the page he was reading from, and the lilt of his voice as he spoke.
Closing my eyes, I took a breath and then said, “There’s something I need to tell you, but I don’t want you to get upset. So please don’t, okay?”
Would he be even more upset with himself that he’d fallen asleep and missed the chance to make sure Vincent didn’t do anything to me?
He closed the book and put it down on the bed. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”
“Probably a nine.”
“Okay …”
“Just remember that I had a really bad day today, and I threw up in front of someone at school, and there was puke on my shoes,” I said in a rush of words. “And Vincent Drake was there.”
“At school?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Cyn saw him too. He came up to us outside and sat beside me.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not exactly.”
“What did he do?”
“Held my hand and told Cyn that he was you.”
He was silent for a long time and then said, “Did you throw up before or after he was there?”
“Right after.”
He leaned back and looked away. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t stand not knowing what he was thinking, so I asked him, “Are you upset? At me? At him? Tell me.”
“I’m disappointed,” he said. “It kind of feels like you kept this from me.”
“But I didn’t!” I justified. “I’m telling you now.”
“Several hours after it happened.”
“I … I just didn’t know what to do.”
“You could have let me in. You could have told me right away.”
“But I’m telling you now. And you were asleep. And …”
“Well, I’m glad I know now,” he said.
But he didn’t sound glad. And I didn’t feel glad. Instead I just felt worse.
Chapter Ten. WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING
Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and with a scramble and a bound stood at once in the middle of the road.
– “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
I knew right away that something was wrong when I woke up the next morning. Caspian was next to me, and he looked like he was taking a nap. But something was different. I could feel it.
“Caspian,” I said. “Are you sleeping again? I thought you didn’t need to sleep.” I got up and walked over to the side of the bed where he was lying, and stood directly over him. “Wake up.”
He didn’t move.
“Come on, Casper. Wake up!” I said again, louder. My instinct was to shake him, even thought I knew I couldn’t touch him. I called his name again and again, feeling a growing sense of unease. Why is this happening? What does it mean?
“Wake up. Why won’t you wake up?” I said.
Finally I gave in. I reached down to touch him, and my hand went through his. But I didn’t feel the buzz or tingle that should have been there.
I moved my arm back and forth-over his head, on his shoulder, up his arm. There was nothing. Not even a blip. It was like we were totally cut off.
I stumbled back, threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and raced down to the kitchen. Sophie and Kame’s number was there, on a business card they’d given to Mom, and I needed to talk to them now. I needed to know what was going on.