The Cat's Out Of The Bag

Chapter Thirteen

I wake up, suddenly cool.

I look down to see I'm in my bed, with a water bottle next to me, my mother beside me fanning me down.

"Wh-"

"Shh. Rest," she says, tapping my forehead.

"You feel okay now? You blacked out, for who knows how long. I just brought you home. You haven't had enough water."

I think back to my sobbing, Riley's words, Star's watchful eyes...

The air is sucked out of me again, but I manage to feebly nod.

"Really, what's wrong?" My mom asks, her voice firm. There's no way I'm getting out of this.

"Talking to my friend again. Well, more like she talked to me. Not nicely. She blamed me for... stuff that happened that kind of were my fault and I just couldn't take it and-"

My mom leans over to give me a half hug, and I accept her embrace, relishing the warmness.

"It's fine, it will be fine. It was not your fault, trust me," my mom says, letting me go.

"But you don't know that. You don't even know what I did," I whisper, feeling my eyes tear up again.

"Then tell me, and I'll tell you the truth, even though I know it already," she puts her hand on my shoulder, but it's no help. I can feel my throat closing up again and black dots dancing around in my vision at the thought of having to confess to another person.

Wow, I'm truly a horrible person. I can't even admit my despicable act to my mother? One day she will find out, and it has to be by my means, no one else's.

But before I can speak a word, she holds the water bottle to me, waiting for me to take it. I sigh and do, feeling some energy flow through me as the cold water hits my stomach.

"Just rest now, and I'll come check on you in a bit," my mom says, leaving the room in silence.
I just sit there, the events of earlier still replaying in my head.

I check my phone, my heart fluttering at the thought of possibly a text from her, anything to let me know that she doesn't hate me.

But nothing. Not a single word since she last spoke to me.

"You'll just make things worse. Just go, please."

Her last words still echo through my head, the pain just as fresh. I lay flat on my bed, forcing down more tears as I drag myself into unwanted sleep.

I awake to a small knock and my mom opening the door.

"Sweetie? You got a package, it's for you. From mail."

I immediately get up, ignoring my headache at sudden movement.

"Oh, okay." I mumble, wiping my eyes, still sleepy.

My mom places the package in my hands and leaves.

I just stare at it, taking it in. It has a note saying to: Natalie in very familiar handwriting.

Without waiting any longer, I rip it open, not caring to salvage the box. Inside is at first a bunch of bubble wrap, which I like. It's always fun to pop it. Then, once I peel back the layer, a part of my brain doesn't register what I'm looking at.

It's so familiar, exciting and frighting all at once. I lift it up and I can tell my eyes have not deceived me. It is the signed version of my favorite book, The White Wolf, the exact one from Riley's collection. Without a doubt.

I double scan the book, and everything is the same just as it was when I first saw it. And I look back at the hand writing on the box—Riley's handwriting. That's why it's so familiar. I had seen it when I helped her with her essay, and lots of her homework.

For a moment, my mind flashes back to the missing cat poster she had given to me, and I find myself reaching next to my desk and quickly finding it. I read it all over again, scanning every word until I make it back to the one that had me in shambles.

Not again.

I had completely forgotten about it, but with everything that's going on, I find it a welcomed distraction rather than an unsolvable nuisance.

I think back to the times I've been at her house, but nothing comes to mind to help me explain her choice of words. Nothing.

I rub my head, feeling a stronger headache coming on.

Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Maybe it's all in my head, just like our friendship.