Lauren Sanders is struggling to rebuild her life with her aunt and cousin after her family's tragic death. But what no one knows is the truth about two things: how her parents really died and her battle with schizophrenia.
One day, Lauren stumbles...
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At about eleven-thirty, I receive a text message from Aaren. My phone vibrated on my bedside table as I was ready to fall asleep.
When Aaren said he was confident in knowing where the following note would be, I recalled forcing myself to get up from the comforts of my bed. I managed to leave the house quietly—successfully—after tiptoeing down the stairs and almost stumbling on the way down, and nearly shattering a vase.
There's a first time for everything, and this would be my first time sneaking out late at night with a guy on a Thursday school night, only to travel to a different city to retrieve a note with me.
That freaking note.
I kept staring at Aaren like a stalker the entire time he was driving, as he was quietly mouthing the words of the song from the radio that he blasted through the car the moment I hopped in his vehicle. It made me half-wish I was deaf for the day.
Aaren gave me a brief glance, his brows furrowed in bemusement, as he continued to sing along with the song even though no sound came out of his mouth at all.
"Why do you keep staring at me like that?" He asks, "Do I have something on my face?" He suddenly brushes each of his cheeks with his free hand.
I shake my head as I sat straight, shifting my whole body towards the dark road ahead of us.
"You haven't been answering my calls and messages for the past three days," I manage to say as I stare at my side of the window, watching each lamp post on the side of the roads.
I shift my head towards his direction, "Is everything okay?" I asked, my voice falling flat, hinting a concerned tone.
Aaren snickers. He spares me another glance, this time, it was three seconds longer than earlier, "Everything is okay."
I don't know why but his tone somehow convinced me that he wasn't telling the truth—or at least, that's what my gut was telling me.
"You're not okay, aren't you?" I asked again. "I could listen to you talk about it all day, especially because you've already allowed yourself to give some time to listen to me talk about mine."
I watch his lips slowly curl into a smile as he fixes his gaze on the road ahead of us. "Everything is okay," he says again but in a more relaxed tone this time.
He turns his head to face me, gazing me in the eyes. I watch as his free hand delicately reaching for mine, and I allow him to squeeze it. I suppose that's his way of telling me that he's okay, but I can't seem to let go of it—the thought of it. The idea that he was somehow not.
"Don't worry about me," Aaren says, "I promise you; everything is okay."
I fell asleep on the way to Pasadena. It was a failed attempt when I drank hot chocolate; knowing that I'm not much of an avid fan of coffee, I opted for buying myself a cup of hot chocolate to help me stay awake but instead, it had the opposite effect of what I was expecting when I drank it.
