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✯ E V E L Y N ✯
My eyes are swollen.
Eva and Charlie are gone out to their dinner while I'm stuck in the house, crying myself to sleep at eleven in the night. I bet no one in a First World country is sobbing over how unfair life is when there are other people struggling to live.
I carefully wipe my eyes. They are tender, red-rimmed. I catch sight of myself in my mirror and see what a mess I am.
I look awful. My hair is clumpy around my pale face, my lips tugged in a frown and my cheeks are blotchy.
The girl staring back looks nothing like how she did four years ago. Then again, a lot can happen in four years. People can die. Friendship ties can snap. People can drift away from each other.
There's a loud knock on the door that echoes throughout the whole house, startling me. I stay silent, sliding into my slippers and going down the stairs.
There's a half-hearted knock almost swallowed by the sound of rain, and I open the front door to reveal Lio.
Since there's a shelter by the front door, she's free from the horrendous rain that pours onto the sidewalk.
Tired, unfocused eyes blink at me in the approaching darkness, a hand brushing wet hair from her eyes. "Lio, wh—come in," I say, changing my mind on questioning her while she's drenched.
I open the door wider and bustle her in, slamming the door behind us. Lio still hasn't spoken yet, too busy focusing on rubbing her hands together. Water from her soaked clothes drips onto the clean floor, but I ignore that and usher her up the stairs. "Shit, you must be freezing."
I'm wondering why she doesn't say a word, but I still drag her into a guest bedroom, sitting her on the bed.
And that's when I look at her. She has a faraway look on her face, a small smile permanently plastered on her lips as her pupils dilate, even when I turn on the light overhead.
She's freaking high.
"Uh," I stammer, unsure how to approach the situation. Lio blinks at the wall behind me before focusing on me, her damp blonde-brown hair framing her oval face. She looks content, most likely the aftermath of drugs. "What did you take?"
She must know what I mean, because she replies, "Girl Scout Cookies," with a loud giggle that lasts a full minute. I'm guessing it's some sort of weed.
A damp patch spreads over the white bedsheets, and despite her calmness she's shivering.
And so, with a heavy sigh, I get to work.
"Take off your jacket, skirt, and shoes," I command, refusing to let myself blush. Thankfully, Lio's wearing thick leggings under her skirt - very smart because it's 32° outside - and a camisole over her bra. It takes a few minutes to help her out of her clothing, the leather of her skirt sopping wet.
