spoken word. (gxg)

nine.

nine.

The smell of vanilla surrounded me. When I opened my eyes, I realized I was on the biggest bed I had ever seen-- white sheets stainless and soft, lighted delicately by a stream of sunlight from the large window to my left. I was a little disoriented from waking up-- where was I? A peek over the side of the bed revealed June, sockless, laying on top of a folded blanket and pillow and scrolling through her phone.

The night came rushing back to me. As I looked at her, my head swam. I felt embarrassment, horror, fear. Her head turned, amber eyes crashing to meet mine. Concern filled them. The emotions I had been feeling nulled when I saw how worried she was. A warm feeling replaced them.

"Sorry, the guest room wasn't ready and my mother is really sensitive about that kind of thing, so I had to take you to my room." My eyes widened, and I looked around. No wonder it smelled like vanilla. "Don't worry," she gestured to the pillow she leaned against, "I slept on the floor."

"Ah," I panicked, "I'm so sorry. I could have slept on the floor." She didn't respond, squinting at me.

"Are you okay?" The sincerity of the question knocked me out of balance. I avoided answering, opting to scan the room instead. It was surprisingly normal. Clean, bright-- littered with academic and athletic awards. I would have smiled at the cat figurine on her dresser if I wasn't so disconcerted.

Eventually, my eyes found hers again. She waited.

"I'm okay," I said. Her lips thinned, but she didn't say anything. I figured she was going to ask me about last night, but she stood up, opening the door. The smell of eggs and toast wafted into the room.

"My brother made eggs, if you'd like some." I nodded. She sighed, staring at me for a few seconds before leaving the room. I made an effort to sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. A full-length mirror decorated the side of her dresser, exposing my fears.

I looked terrible. My hair was a mess, my eyes red and rimmed by smeared mascara. I flushed when I realized that the t-shirt I was wearing wasn't my own. It hung off my frame, covering almost half of my thighs. I wondered who undressed me and where my clothes were, but decided it didn't matter.

I was never wearing them again.

I noticed my phone, plugged in, on the bedside table and checked my texts. There was one from Charlotte.

R u ok? It said. I smiled, texting back.

Yeah, thanks. I'm good. I received a reply almost immediately.

Ur sure??

Yeah, thanks. I repeated, flattered that she cared.

Tell me if you need anything love!! She texted me.

I will, I sent back, adding a smiley face emoji.

My stomach rumbled when the smell of food approached. I realized that I hadn't eaten since lunch the day before.

"What time is it?" I asked June as she entered the room. Her eyes flickered to her left wrist before meeting mine, the full force of her attention on me. It was a little unnerving.

"It's almost ten," she informed me, handing over the tray in her hands. "You slept for almost 15 hours." When she sat cross-legged on the ground I followed suit, leaning back against her bed. 15 hours-- I slept for such a long time. I felt okay, at least, which was nice since I was usually groggy when I slept for a long time. Maybe it was the adrenaline of being in a new place, having June's constant attention.