In the aftermath of her twin sister's tragic death, Reagan Sinclair finds herself in a never-ending battle against paralyzing panic attacks and drowning in grief. Desperate to just survive each day, Reagan's world is turned upside down when Paris un...
Samara: Don't want me, young lady, I've been calling you for the past twenty minutes.
Reagan: I'm on a video call with my dad, but before that, I lost my phone. What's up?
Samara: I lost my phone, she says. This kid from NYU, Zayn, I think? Maybe Zion? Whatever his name is. He's having his birthday party at Acid, and you're coming with.
Reagan: No, I'm not.
Samara: Yes, you are. I miss you, and I'm not taking no for an answer. Dress sexy, I'll be at your place around nine.
Reagan: Samara, I'm not going.
Reagan: Samara, I'm serious.
Reagan: Sammy!
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“REAGAN, ARE YOU LISTENING to me?” I put my phone away and look down at my father through the computer screen I have opened on the kitchen counter. I shake my head because it feels thick, as slow-moving as molasses. No, I'm not listening to him. He sighs and then repeats himself.
“I asked how are your classes, I know this is your last year at NYU,”
“Classes are fine. I'm excited to be graduating soon,” I say, although you'd never know it by the tone of my voice. Deep down, though, I am genuinely excited. In fact, my academic advisor has already sent me the form to graduate. I'm excited to finally be leaving the place that holds so many hunting memories of my sister.
“I'm surprised you're still able to graduate early, given your stint at Briar Rose,” Carsyn chimes in. Her tone is just inquisitive enough not to sound bitchy, but it makes my hackles rise anyway. I send her a glare and she looks down at her extra long hot pink stiletto nails, deflecting my look entirely. I roll my eyes, and pick at the skin on the side of my thumbnail, trying not to think too much about Briar. It stings, so I press a little harder. Robin and I got into NYU on an early admission and if it wasn't for my parents and my forced stay at the Looney Bin, I'd be graduating a lot earlier than I am now. After Briar Rose, I had to do a boatload of catch-up work if I wanted to bring back up my credit and graduate early. Which also meant both summer and winter intersessions and a shit ton of online classes. No thanks to Elaine and Julius. I worked my ass off to still be able to leave early with my undergraduate degree in Business Management and Fine Arts, so Carsyn can take her commentary and shove it.
“Hey, Carsyn? Why don't you introduce your top lip to your lower one for a change and shut the hell up?” she gasps all dramatic-like and brings her hand to her chest in outrage, her platinum blonde bob swaying.
“Do you see how she talks to me, Julius?” my dad sends me an exasperated look, and I shrug my shoulders. I'm not normally a rude person but Carsyn's a bitch. I know it, my dad knows it, and I'm sure Carsyn knows it too. I open my mouth to force out an apology even though it's the last thing I'd rather do, and she probably deserves to have lemon juice poured into paper cuts instead, but the sight of Paris walking out of his room stalls the words on my tongue. His hair is damp like he just stepped out of the shower and he's wearing an old blue shirt with the sleeves cut out and all those corded muscles and colourful tattoos are on full display. My mouth goes dry.
