What Lurks Beneath the Surface ✔️

chapter eleven

"He's coming over now?" I leap to my feet, stare at my disheveled reflection in the mirror, and let out a sigh. "Kira, it's four o'clock in the morning. I'm not ready!"

"You were crying and screaming in your sleep, Vange. I think that takes priority over your bedhead."

"Where's your brush?"

"Top of the dresser."

Quickly, I comb through my mousy hair and yank it back into a messy bun. I rip off my flannel pajama pants and slip on the leggings I wore yesterday. I try to find my shirt and bra, desperate to look like a human and not a swamp creature.

Rem and I have only been together for two weeks. As silly as it sounds, I'm not ready for him to see me au naturel yet.

"Vange, I think he's here," Kira announces, peaking through the blinds. "Damn, that Mustang is nice."

"How do I look?" I ask.

"Like a Disney princess."

Rolling my eyes, I race outside as Rem gets out of his car. His face is a portrait of worry, and I'm hit with a wave of guilt. I understand why Kira called him, but I wish she hadn't. I don't want him to lose sleep over me.

"Hey, pretty girl." He pulls me into his arms, burying his head in the crook of my neck. "You okay?"

"Better now," I admit, unable to deny the relief I felt as soon as I was enveloped in his warm embrace.

Why the hell was I so concerned about my appearance?

"Good," he says into my shoulder. "Sorry for ruining your sleepover, but when Kira called, I—"

"It's okay," I cut him off, pulling back so I can see his face. "I get it."

"I'm worried about you," he confesses. "Not just tonight, but all the time. These nightmares are becoming more and more frequent."

"I know." Fighting back tears, I meet his fretful gaze. "I think you were right. I think my brain is digging up repressed memories. Tonight's dream was my... my mom's funeral," I murmur, biting down on my bottom lip to distract myself from the ache in my chest.

"It's gonna be okay, Vange. We'll figure this out." He presses his lips to my forehead and holds me against his chest. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

I cling to him, reveling in his touch. Even when my world is crumbling down around me, I always feel safe in his arms.

But there's a part of me that's afraid. What if this is too much for him? What if he isn't looking for a serious, wake-me-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night kind of relationship? This is, after all, our last year of high school. Maybe he wants to have fun, to play the field, to do what all seventeen-year-olds are entitled to do.

Maybe he'll realize I come from a line of damaged people and that there's no hope for me.

The first teardrop dares to fall. I wipe it away with the back of my hand, hoping he doesn't notice.

"You're shaking, Vange," he whispers.

"It's cold out here."

"You two should come inside." Wrapped in a blanket, Kira approaches us. She takes my hand and drags me into the house, where three cups of steaming black coffee are waiting for us.

"You're a godsend," I say, wrapping my icy fingers around one of the mugs.

"Is it okay that I'm here?" Rem asks, flashing a nervous smile in Kira's direction. "I'm sure your parents wouldn't like it if they woke up to a boy in their kitchen."