11| Roofie

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I open my eyes and yawn. There is an unusual amount of light in my room, and I realize after a moment that I'm in fact not even in my room.

I'm in a soft white bed, that's pretty obvious.

I look around and spot a desk with a laptop on it. In the corner of the room is a football jersey wadded up. On one wall is a flatscreen tv.

Yeah. This definitely isn't my room.

Then whose is it? And what happened last night that made me end up here?

My heartbeat grows quick as I try to remember.

I remember Anson- he went to the party with me after the football game. I remember dancing with some guy...

Who was he? Why was I dancing with him?

I feel confusion washing over me. Suddenly, an image of Anson and the blonde girl comes back to me, and I conclude I must've danced with the random boy because of that.

Where am I now, though?

I slide out from under the covers and tiptoe across the room. My bare toes are greeted by the feeling of plush, frosting-colored carpet. For some reason, they still ache. My mind comes to the conclusion that last night's mystery dance is the cause.

    I make it to the closed bedroom door and I gently open it. The spacious hallway is completely empty.

Weird.

I take a few steps down the hall, and I hear a noise that sounds like movement, coming from one of the rooms adjacent to this corridor.

Maybe I could peek into one of them and see where I am.

When I crack the door, my heart lodges somewhere in my throat.

I immediately register where I am, when I spot a sandy-blonde head of hair on a boy sitting criss-cross on his bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine.

"Anson!" I exclaim not-so-quietly and he jumps in surprise.

     What the hell is he doing here? Wait, am I in his house?

"Indie!" He whispers, putting a hand to his heart. "Do you always sneak up on people like that?"

I shrug. "Depends, do you always bring girls home after parties?"

His eyes spark instantly and he stands up and walks over to me. " We need to talk about last night." He says seriously. He closes the space in between us, making me push to the door to keep from touching him.

I want trust him, for reasons I can't explain, but his tone worries me.

     "Then let's talk." I say unsurely.

He leads me out into the hall again, and back to the room in which I had awoken, his room, and tells me to take a seat on the bed.

     It's killing me that he's not said a word since he informed me that we needed to talk, thirty seconds ago.

"Anson what's going on?" I ask impatiently. I think about my family.

     Bryn and Mom are probably worried about me...

"What do you remember about last night?" His eyes pierce mine and I swallow involuntarily.

"Not much. You walked off, and I danced with a guy, and-" I stop talking.

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