spoken word. (gxg)

twenty-two.

twenty-two.

Walking in the fresh air didn't help me feel better. Instead, I noted weakly, my body was feeling even more exhausted. The cotton feeling in my brain, the dizziness, wasn't getting better. In fact, it was worsening.

"Get yourself together," I mumbled when I stumbled to the side slightly.

I veered into a thin alleyway, leaving my back against the bricks and breathing heavily. I felt so, so tired, and just wanted to sit down. Slowly, I slid down the wall to sit on the concrete, leaning the side of my head against the cool brick wall. It felt better.

I reached to grab my phone, but a hand grasped mine, making my phone fall out of my pocket and clatter on the ground. Strong fingers laced through my hair, pulling my head back, but I couldn't make out the face as my lids fell heavy over my eyes.

A throaty, deep voice echoed through the small alleyway. Footsteps shook the ground as a new voice, loud and angry, spoke threateningly.

"Get your hands off of her," it said. I tried to stay awake, be alert, but my body wouldn't listen and I eventually dipped into unconsciousness.

When I awoke, it was to the scent of vanilla. June. The smell slipped my body into a panic-- half excitement and half terror.

I peeked through my eyelashes, taking in the room around me. It wasn't familiar-- blue walls surrounded the twin bed I was lying in. A glance to the right betrayed my worst fear.

It was June, perched on the side of the bed, back facing me. Her posture made me think that she was on her phone, and the way her left hand fisted the bedsheets expressed her mood. I hurriedly shut my eyes.

What had happened? Did Tyler drug my coffee? No, that was dumb-- why would he drug me just to take me back to June's house? The voice I'd heard in the alley sounded a lot like his, so I assumed it was him who had found me. Who did the other voice belong to, then?

Then, I remembered that my phone had fallen. I wanted to pat my pockets, feel if I had it, but I forced myself to be still. Besides, Tyler might have taken it. Or maybe he gave it to June.

Shit. June. How much had he told her?

My heart sped as I felt the bed shift, a warm hand resting on my cheek. Stroking once, then stopping over my forehead to feel its heat. My eyes, against my will, flickered open to a pair of dark amber eyes.

She pulled her hand back. A multitude of different emotions crossed her face. Relief, anger... worry?

"June," I breathed. Her eyes blazed, anger winning out.

"You said you weren't sick," she accused. Internally, I let out a sigh of relief. So she didn't know I had been drugged-- that meant Tyler had kept my secret.

"Um," I said, "well..." I didn't know what to say. The way she was staring at me, so close, was making me dizzy. Or maybe the drugs still hadn't worn off. She squinted at me.

"You should just tell me if you're sick. I..." she started, but didn't continue. I laughed weakly.

"Sorry. I'll let you know next time." She glared at me accusingly.

"Don't say that," she said.

"What?"

"Don't say next time. There won't be a 'next time'." A grin played at my lips.

"I can't just not get sick," I reasoned. Her eyes narrowed further, but she didn't argue. A long silence passed, and as she sat next to me, my weight on the bed making her lean in closer involuntarily, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was even in the dimness of the room.