“Dusty?”
I saw black when I opened my eyes. No. Stars. I was seeing stars.
It took a bit, then turning my head—I reared upright, scrambling backwards. I was on the edge of the picnic table. My head was woozy, and I was seeing two of someone.
No. Wait.
It was Savannah and Mia? Both were staring at me, eyebrows raised, and looks of confusion on their faces. Both were decked out in Texas C&B gear, the white and blue colors displayed loud and proud, seventeen and thirty-seven on their cheeks in sparkly blue paint. That’s right. Their boyfriends were on the team. I’d forgotten.
And what was I doing here?
Oh, yeah.
Stone. Me being a bitch. Him charging off from the curb, and a part of me couldn’t blame him. I’d be frustrated with me, too, if I were him.
“What are you doing?”
Mia was staring at my feet.
I looked, too. The flip flops had fallen off.
“Sorry. I was sleeping and…” I sat up, but whoa. The blood didn’t go with me. It rushed downwards instead, making me lightheaded and I was teetering on the edge of the table.
Savannah rushed forward, grabbing my arm.
Mia’s top lip just lifted even more in a sneer.
“No. Like, what are you doing here?”
“Am I not living here anymore?” I put a hand to my forehead. I was fairly certain the pounding I was feeling up there wasn’t a good sign. Neither was sleeping in the sun all afternoon long because Stone picked me up from the hospital at three. It was dark out. Looking over my shoulder, the lights were on in the house. I frowned. No one had seen me out here? “What time is it?”
“It’s ten-thirty. Everybody’s coming here from the Quail.” That was Mia’s flat response, like I’d irritated her that she even had to respond to a question.
The Quail.
Oh no.
“I had a job interview there. Oh no.”
“Helllooooo. What are you doing here?” Savannah waved her hand in front of my face to get my attention. There was a bit more edge to her voice, and I couldn’t blame her either. I’d be frustrated with myself.
Wait.
I was repeating my thoughts.
That really wasn’t good.
“I don’t have my phone or my keys, or anything. I couldn’t get in the house.” And they hadn’t answered my question. “Did you guys kick me out?”
They shared a look, a dumbfounded expression, and I could just tell. Their mouths were hanging open. Their eyes were saying, ‘wtf?’ And their eyebrows were all the way up into their foreheads.
I was a keen observer of the human body.
That and I heard Mia whisper, “W-T-F?”
“You’re…” Savannah had to stop, shake her head, clear her thoughts. “You were in an accident.”
“Yes.”
Noted. I knew that.
They shared another look.
I tried again. “So, the room? Is it still mine?”
And Savannah was trying to get me to understand again, too. “You totaled your car. A truck took you out.”
“Girl,” Mia snapped. “You were in a coma all week.”
Yes. And yes.
But why were they not answering my question?
“So… I don’t still have the room? Or do I?”
“OH MY GOD!” Mia burst out. “No! All your shit was picked up by Stone Fucking Reeves. You KNOW STONE FUCKING REEVES! Why are you HERE and not with HIM?!”
I flinched, frowning. “You don’t need to yell at me. I have a splitting headache.”
Savannah’s face flashed to horror. “You do? You should be in the hospital. You shouldn’t be here. What are you doing here? Sleeping outside?”
I was really trying to focus here. I was, but the headache was increasing by the minute, and Mia’s shouting only made it worse. I literally had nothing to my name right now except the clothes on my back and I just needed to know where to go.
“Will you please just tell me?” My voice was dipping low, hoarse, and to an alarming sound that I knew was concerning, but I was losing normal thought function as to why I should be alarmed about how I was sounding. “Doahhafdaroomstll?”
“You’re slurring your words.” Savannah pointed out.
“She’s slurring her words.” Mia was always the smartest.
A disgusted sigh from her again, “Fucking hell.”
“What are you doing?” That was Savannah again.
My eyes had closed.
I was getting so sleepy again.
I just had a long nap. I shouldn’t be so tired so soon after, right? Right?
Mia snapped in a huff, “I’m calling 911 again. This bitch’s death is not going to be on our hands.”
“Oh dear.”
I just thought this picnic table was so comfortable. Why’d I ever use a bed? That was my last, somewhat coherent thought until splendid peace.
