CHAPTER 26: SMOKE AND MIRRORS

116 12 6
                                    

Warning: there's some drug use in the second part, nothing too harsh (aka a joint), but I prefer to warn you if you want to skip this last part. 😘

'Sometimes I get a little too hurt

Got my mind going places it ain't wanna go

Sometimes I get a little too low

And I can't see myself through the fire and smoke

And you, like a neon light

Shining through a door that I can't keep closed.'


Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


*ALTHEA'S POV*


October 27, 2023.


"Hey..." My voice trailed off with my gaze around the dimly lit room, many three-worded sentences crossing my mind along the journey from the colorful door to the bed, but when I spotted the figure in the wheelchair in between, none of them came out.

How are you? Is everything okay? Are you alright?

I'd heard those questions enough to know how empty they echoed in the silence. Almost as much as the cracking answer that always followed them.

"I'm fine."

Was it always as unconvincing as the words leaving Sarah's trembling lips as she focused on the buttons of her black top that her trembling hands were battling to fasten, though?

"Let me help you," I offered, kneeling in front of her, even if, in the faint lighting of her bedside lamp, I wasn't sure my own shaky fingers were of much use to hook the tiny buttons turning slippery with each of her falling tears.

"I promise Caleb hasn't done anything wrong." Her hazel eyes lifted towards me, bloodshot but transparent enough to pull me a sigh of relief and tug at my heartstrings at the same time.

I couldn't explain why I was so affected by the two young people I'd met barely two weeks ago, yet there was something as familiar as if I'd known them for years.

"Everything was going great. We were kissing and making out, but then, things heated up, and I..." she paused, her gaze turning faraway as if replaying the scene, and whatever she saw, it made her pinch her eyes closed. "I don't feel ready."

"Hey, it's okay. Believe me, sometimes you do feel ready when you aren't."

It was my turn to close my eyes, and even if the memories weren't as fresh, I could still picture it all: these blown-out pupils darkening the green shades in a duality of penetrating seriousness and inviting wickedness until they resembled the wonderland forest, like a warning for the Cheshire cat grin that he'd offered me seconds later, the determined yet so soft hold of his fingers against my erratic pulse, and his breathless words still tickling my lips as they stretched into a wistful smile.

BEYONDWhere stories live. Discover now