T.R.I.G.G.E.R

T.R.I.G.G.E.R - #29

"Is she up yet?" The first voice asks.

"No."

"Well, can you tell her that Derrick knows she won't be in school?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, and make sure she gets this."

The sound of a door closing met my ears, and I stirred.

Fairly awake now, my brain slowly recognized the voices as Laila and Tucker.

I turned onto my stomach and cradled my head in my arms.

"You aren't going to school?" Tucker asked from beside me.

That crippling pain announced itself in my stomach, making me wince.

"No." I grumbled and pulled the blanket over my head.

Tucker chuckled quietly. "Definitely not used to this.." He said to himself.

"Shut up. I'm trying to focus."

"On what?"

"Sleeping."

The sound of Tucker's laughs faded and I fell back into a deep, comfortable sleep.

#####

My sleep didn't last long. Thanks to someone's phone ringing out of control.

I couldn't figure out why he wasn't answering it, which was starting to irritate me.

"Tucker."

No answer.

I turned my head to look at him and found him sound asleep.

He must've fell asleep while he was on his phone because it was still in his hand.

I looked at his screen, but it didn't have a call on it which meant that my phone must've been the one ringing.

I pushed myself up and went to get it off my dresser.

As soon as I reached for it, it went to voicemail.

It was an unknown number. I clicked on the voicemail, but they didn't leave a message.

I went to my texts, and there was a new message from the same number.

Unknown: We are going to find you, Jacquelyn.

This couldn't be someone I've met recently because everyone I know, knows me as 'Jackie' or 'red'.

The only people from my past that called me by my real name were my parents and they're dead.

I shook my head clear of this new drama and put my phone down on the dresser. There was a brown paper bag in front of my mirror with a staple holding it shut.

On the front of the bag was a sticky note that read, 'feel better' written in neat cursive. I tore the bag open to find a pack of sanitary napkins, a heating pad, painkillers, and three king sized kit kat bars.

I noted to thank her later then I fished around in my dresser for some underwear. I grabbed the sanitary napkins and my towel and went into the bathroom for a shower.

I didn't want to ponder Tucker's reasons for wanting to see me last night. Nor did I want to think about the fact that he, once again, spent the whole night in my bed. Even though we didn't do anything, it still kind of bothered me.

Tucker was my childhood best friend. How was I supposed to respond to him confessing to having some secret intimate feeling toward me? How was that supposed to make me feel?