Seventeen-year-old Rue Winters wants nothing more than to get out of Eldermere. After all, there's a witch living on the outskirts of the town, and Alethea Storm knows everybody's secrets. It's not like they have to wait all that long either.
But wh...
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I expect to be dragged home and left on the doorstep to explain myself. What actually happens is... not that.
"Don't even think about it."
"I can't just—"
"Drink it before I make you," Harry snaps, opening the bottle with enough force to snap through the bit of plastic keeping the bottle and the lid attached. "I'm not carrying you home."
I can barely hold the bottle, so he does actually have to 'make me', which is not quite as embarrassing as it should be. There's nobody around to see after all. It's cold, and late.
It's going to be frosty tomorrow. I know it in my bones, all of a sudden.
It is not a very comfortable sensation.
Having drunk about a third of the bottle, I lean forward and throw it up again, setting me right back to square zero.
"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm sorry!" I've scrubbed the tears from the bus stop away, but the new flood of them is different. It's not just the hypo this time. "My bones hurt."
"I... what? Since when was that a thing?"
"Since f'rever." Shut up. "I feel the weather in them sometimes. It's gonna be cold t'morrow."
Harry blinks at me dubiously, then shrugs and puts the bottle back to my mouth. "We'll be here all night at this rate. Can you try and keep it down or am I actually going to have to carry you?"
"S'that an offer? Maybe..."
"Oh, you're actually just getting worse. Give me your phone, I need to see how bad this is."
He puts in my passcode without any hesitation, which should probably be concerning and I should probably change it, but it's helpful for the moment. The swearing is not.
"I swear to God, Rue, bring some fucking stuff with you tomorrow or I might have to strangle you or something. What does this even mean?"
"Bad," I say helpfully, squinting at the word in the circle — LOW. Then again. "Bad."
"Thanks for the help."
"Welcome."
Harry sighs like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders and puts the bottle into my shaking hands. "Try holding onto that. I'm calling your parents."
I sip at the drink while he rings one, then the other, then curses and glances around the empty street. Not good, I guess.
"You know what, finish that off, and I'll get you home. Spare key under the mat, right?"
"Mhm."
The promise of being home, where I can forget about the disaster today has been, curl up in bed and fall asleep without any effort... it makes it quite easy to finish the drink, even without Harry helping me now. He then proceeds to help a little too much, once he's chucked the empty bottle away.
