Wonderland | H.S.

Chapter Seven

Taking Accountability:

Forgot I was writing a story.

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Presley's POV | Present Day

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I need a shot.

Several shots. I need fifteen shots. Of Everclear. Hell, of jet-fuel. I need a shot of water, too, since I'm severely dehydrated.

Clad by a button-up—the fabric pink cotton with wrinkles she refuses to iron—and baggy sweatpants the color of a midnight moon, Mia leans against the doorframe with a serpentine smirk coating her lips.

"Mia?" I shake my head, stepping further from Harry. He doesn't matter anymore. "What are you doing here?"

Raising an eyebrow that no pencil could ever achieve, Mia says, "So you didn't miss me? I'm hurt."

Miss her? Was she referring to her 'miss me' question? I thought that was a way of greeting; an evocative way to deter all attention to the new arrival. Christ, I'm overwhelmed. Even my nipples are cowering.

Cade peers over his shoulder, his hands still occupied by the letters, as I step forward. "No, no, of course I missed you," I wave my hands. "I miss you twenty-four-seven, you know that. Hell, I miss you in my sleep! Yes, I dream about you and you're beautiful smile—"

"Oh, no. You're rambling again," Mia cuts me off. Does she remember? Does she know what's going on? Looking to the blonde beauty, she says, "Cade, she's rambling again."

Cade, who gave a slight dip of his chin, pales from his natural sun-kissed color. "Yeah, she is," he mumbles.

Nothing more, nothing less. My eyebrows furrow as I watch him, observing the shell. Like memories pelt into him, a hail forming welts on his shoulders, his psyche—anything open to the hail.

My focus snaps between the blonde god with a huggable set of arms I've been craving to hold, and the girl who's managed to bring my head to reality with every word, every breath. Nothing about her demeanor suggests she's forgotten who I am. If she had, she'd probably look happier than she does right now.

At peace, if the world forgot my name.

Technically, the world did.

Harry forgot Red.

Seconds pass before I look to Cade and Mia, "What are you doing here?" And why are they together? Completely ignoring the other elephant in the room, I take a step. "I mean, I'm happy you're here to watch me disintegrate. Moral support is always appreciated in the Symmes household, but I guess I'm in this weird confused state where—"

"You don't understand what the hell's going on?" a deep voice sounds from behind, finishing my sentence. "Yeah, I'm right there with you."

Turning over my shoulder, I watch as Harry narrows his eyes on the new arrivals. Bringing up our emotional connection—the intertwining of our arms—from five minutes ago would only stir more uncomfortable conversations, I'm aware. Still, my heart hasn't stopped thundering from the touch, the slight sliver of hope.

"Harold." Mia's smug expression could be seen from the way the word fell off her lips. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Technically, it's only been a week, I want to add. But with the fretful, wavering glass ceiling I walk, I ensure safety. I don't know what Mia remembers—

"Harold?" I flip around, trying to process her words. Been a while, been a while...as if she's met him before. "You know who he is?"

Mia frowns. "Sadly."