College Fiend [A$AP Rocky]

Eight

It seemed as though that precinct was teeming with detectives, each of a higher rank than the other. Two detectives, who were friends like Malcolm and the Southern detective (Leary) seemed to be, came and ceased the entire questioning process. They claimed that the previous detectives were rushing, and a rushed case would never be solved. So the two heroic detectives allowed me to head home along with the rest of the freshmen, but I still didn’t catch sight of Wayne.

I woke on the morning after that wild, crazy night with a headache and numb feet; it was a hangover, it couldn’t be anything else. But I didn’t even drink last night, did I? I couldn’t have. After the commotion with…you know, whatever Neffie told those detectives, I was too tired and drained to even consider drinking. There was no need to celebrate anything.

I heard delicate sounds, seemingly far away like gentle, furtive whispers. It didn’t take long for me to place the noises—sobbing, muffled in the soft silk sheets of Sheena’s bed. I curled my feet into my body and covered myself with my own sheets, trying to pretend like I was in a deep sleep. She continued to cry, oblivious to my consciousness.

“Go away,” She whispered, her voice choked with distraught. “Therapy won’t help. Nothing will help. Everything in the dark must come to light; don’t you always say that? Before we know it my secret will be out. What then?”

There was a pause, allowing for another person’s response. Was the person she’s talking to actually in here? I listened closer…no, they couldn’t be. I heard the second voice, but it was clearly coming from the speaker of a phone.

“Listen, I’ll be alright, okay? Don’t worry about me. My problems aren’t even that big anyway. Everyone’s focus—my focus—should be on her.”

Another pause, shorter this time.

“I’ll call you later, probably. Bye.”

And then she hung up, and all was quiet.

For a moment I thought that she knew all along that I was awake, that she chose to wait until her conversation was over to confront me about it. Her footsteps came slowly, growing louder as she got closer. I stayed frozen in the bed until she reached me. There were no sounds besides the low hum of our fan, and our deliberately paced breath in the room.

She peeled back my sheets.

“Sabine?”

I opened my eyes and rubbed them hard, as if I’d been really asleep. My head pounded suddenly and I flopped myself back onto the bed. I couldn’t wake up properly even if I really was sleeping, my head wouldn’t permit it.

“Sabine, I know it’s four in the morning and all, but…”

“What is it, Sheena?” I responded finally, opening my eyes to look at her. Her face was closer to mine than I anticipated; her eyes were bright and red with tears, and her hair engulfed her face in an eerie, horror-movie kind of way.

“I knew her.” She said simply. I understood; she knew I understood. She fell completely silent (I wasn’t even sure she was breathing) and neither of us spoke for a moment, just staring into each other’s wide, tired eyes. Then she swallowed real hard, got down on her knees, and continued to wait for my reply. What could I say? Just because Sheena knew Jaamani didn’t mean she killed her. In fact, it made me think the opposite.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said. Now she released her breath, and unexpectedly wrapped both of her arms tightly around my head. And…she cried, bawled like a baby. I couldn’t hold her because I was too swallowed by her arms, but she didn’t seem to care. She didn’t need comforting, anyway. This was only a healthy discharge of whatever she was holding inside, not a pity party.