Always/Never

Chapter 25 / Keep Your Hands Off the Red Button

Seven years of time and distance had soldered a lot of my days together, but even though I didn't have a clue when exactly the event occurred, when I woke up, I knew.

It was today.

Rory's clock next to the bed shone. Beyond my door came a distant droning. My head was melting into the blankets as I peeled my cheek from the pillow. The sheets crinkled like my ears were popping.

The time flashed not even six. It was the earliest I'd been awake in a long, long while. Pinpricks raked down my neck.

I scraped my fingers past the clock, sending it toppling to the floor. Everything was dissonant. I stared, muted, before dragging the painkillers closer to me and knocking them back. Dryness scraped my tongue, and I coughed so I wouldn't gag.

I needed to eat. My thoughts tuned out as though filled with gauze.

Everything felt fuzzy.

As I stumbled past my desk, my phone lit up. My crusted eyes widened. Tightening my hands into fists, my stomach crushed against it, and the threads of the system within me pulled.

I froze. Prodded. Metal stung at the base of my throat. My thoughts bounced at every recess of my brain. When I tried to establish my connection to the system, all I got was white noise.

Picking up the phone, it was like I could feel it. But that was it. The system was a faraway satellite, persistent at the edge of my awareness. But something within its veins had broken.

Rory.

It was today.

For the first time in a while, I had to knock. It was like approaching a dead TV channel. The system pulled and clawed, and I continued to pound on the door with no answer.

"Rory!" I kept my voice loud enough to travel through the walls, but it was still quiet hours, and I couldn't risk getting in trouble with the RA.

I could remember this day as clearly as always.

Was she ignoring me, or already passed out?

This was bad.

I dragged a hand through my hair. The RA. She lived on this floor. And she had spare keys.

My feet were already in motion. I had no clue what I was going to say, but something in my stare must have stopped her short when I woke her. Her lights were still off. Darkness coated her corner room; twice the size of mine and with a bed wide enough to fit three. She squinted at me like the sun was harsh. "Who are you?"

"Rory," I said. "I'm sorry. I got locked out."

She leaned against the doorway, nearly placing her head in her hands. "Rory." Like she didn't believe me. "What happened to your keys? Do you still have your fob?"

"I don't know. I was on the track field... my room key fell off, and now I can't find it."

"Did you look?"

"Yes, I looked." It took a bit of restraint to avoid the sarcasm, but somehow it didn't seep through. "Come on. Please? I'm tired, you're tired. Let me in. I'll find my keys, or I'll get someone to help me out, but reception doesn't open until eight thirty and—"

The RA dragged the door closer to her. "Didn't I already do this for you?"

"No. I mean, yeah, but that was—"

"Sorry, Rory." She didn't sound sorry. Not even a little bit. "Reception will help you. They have a master key."

"You have a master key."