Siren's Mark

Chapter 37

𝔸𝕧𝕒

My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I struggle to force my eyes open. There's a pounding in my ears and every muscle in my body is aching—undoubtedly thanks to my gymnastic plunge into the pool last night.

Oh god—tell me that didn't actually happen.

My phone vibrates again and I see the time on the screen: 10:30 am.

Ahh crap.

I'm soooo not ready to deal with everything that happened last night. Then I see the name of the caller: Zane.

Double crap.

The call goes to voicemail before I have the strength to force myself out of bed. I guess the latest medication isn't doing whatever it's supposed to do because I feel like hot garbage. I attempt to drag myself toward the phone, each muscle frozen and fighting me along the way.

The screen reads: 8 Missed Calls.

Super crap.

Sure enough, they're all from Zane.

My mind immediately expects the worst. I acted so crazy, and he already seemed put off by the encounter with my brother the other day.

Is he giving up on me? Has he decided I'm super crazy and all my baggage is not worth dealing with?

I stare at the screen, completely paralyzed as my heart sinks.

Maybe he's just checking up on you. Maybe you're making a mountain out of a molehill. He could just be worried about you.

If he was worried about you why didn't he stay over last night?

Damn brain.

I'm startled by the phone vibrating in my hand. It's Zane again. I hit the answer button before I lose my nerve.

"Hey," I say into the phone.

"Hey," Zane's voice echoes softly.

That's not a good voice.

There's an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Uh," Zane's voice says softly after a pause. "We need to talk."

No.

No.

No.

This can't be happening.

No, calm down. Zane wouldn't break up with you over the phone.

"Uh, okay," I say, fighting back the lump in my throat. "That sounds really ominous."

Once again his end of the line is silent.

"Do you wanna come over?" I ask.

"No," he replies quickly. "I... we... this isn't working out."

My heart feels like it's being crushed inside a trash compactor.

The other day we were soulmates. Now it 'isn't working out'?

Suddenly the ache in my muscles feels like nothing in comparison to the stabbing pain in my chest.

"You're... you're breaking up with me?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says roughly, almost as if he's choking back a cough.

"Wh-... Why?" I ask. "I mean I know I went a little crazy last night, but I think that the alcohol just really got to me more than usual. I don't know if—"