The Scars That Broke Her

Chapter 25

The bright sunlight danced across my face, doing everything in its power to wake me from my dreamless slumber. I rolled onto my side, pulling the blanket over my face. My head ached. My arms felt heavy. My stomach bubbled with what I had yet to determine was going to be a shit or fart. I groaned. Even with my eyes closed, the bright sun was doing nothing for my hangover. In fact, it only seemed to intensify the growing nausea working its way through my body.

"Yeah man, she's here with me." Callan's voice sounded outside my door. "I don't know what happened. She just asked for a ride. I wasn't just going to leave her out there."

I felt myself release a breath I didn't know I had been holding. A small part of me was relieved that Callan wasn't spilling the night's drama with whoever was on the other end – presumably one of my brothers – I was already in enough trouble as it is. I pulled the covers over my head tighter, trying to block out the sound. I didn't want to talk to them yet.

Unfortunately, Callan seemed to have other plans. A light rap tapped against the closed door. "Noa? Are you awake?"

"Go away." I mumbled, hoping my tone didn't sound too harsh. He did save my butt last night.

"Noa, Tate's on the phone. He wants to talk to you."

"I'm sleeping."

There was a pause, "Noa, he really wants to talk to you."

I huffed out a large sigh, before throwing the covers off me. Hauling myself out of the comfort of the bed, I stalked across the room. I pulled open the door, sending Callan a glare which he returned with a small smile. He held the phone out to me.

I bit my lip, holding the device to my ear. "Tate?"

"Noa! What the hell happened?" Worry was laced in his tone. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I let out a shaky breath, pushing away any reminders of last night. "I just...I just couldn't stay there any longer. Callan offered to give me a ride home."

"So, how'd you end up at his house then?"

I glanced at Callan. "I was really drunk, Tate. I didn't think Cale would appreciate taking care of me all night."

"So, you made Callan do it?" His tone shifted, now highlighting the disbelief he felt. If I was with him his eyes would no doubt be tracing over me, searching for the lie.

"It wasn't on purpose." I frowned, turning away from Callan and cupping the phone closer to my mouth. "I almost threw up in his car, Tate."

Tate cackled on the other end, not bothering to hide his amusement for my near-death mortification.

"Its not funny!"

"Noa, its hilarious." His laugh continued, much to my dismay. My frown deepened as I leaned against the wall. After a few seconds, Tate cleared his throat, his voice turning serious. "Cale was pissed when you didn't come home."

I cursed, dragging my free hand across my face. "Tate, you can't tell him I stayed here. He's already mad enough. If he finds out I ditched out on him to stay with a boy-"

"Relax, I told him you were spending the night with Clove." Tate said, he let out a breath. "Why didn't you tell me you wanted to leave? I would have gone with you. Clove too. We were worried about you."

My breath hitched as I remembered Eli. It was like I could feel his hand gripping my body, his hot breath on my face, the slap of his hand across my cheek. I shuddered. "I couldn't go back in there. I jus-...just needed to leave..."