Page 23

A

week.

School started a week ago.

Maybe more.

It felt like more.

Time acted weirdly in this drab, dreary existence where every day was scheduled right down to the bathroom breaks and supervised, allotted free time.

I hadn’t even been able to call my family the first two days, but my lawyer had been in touch, mentioning that my parents—she either couldn’t or wouldn’t clarify whether it was one or both of them—had agreed to a plea deal the construction site owner had offered in favor of avoiding a formal trial.

Part of the deal included getting help for my “destructive behaviors,” so despite Dad’s promise, Vedault was still my current residence.

The longer I was here, the more I realized how attached I’d become to Ben—heck, I’d even take Kolton’s spamming texts at this point. His heart was in the right place.

My mood plummeted once more.

There was nothing like barren walls and a lack of internet access to turn a person introspective.

I couldn’t stop worrying about what Ralph had told the others or what they thought of me now, or if Ben’s dad convinced him to drop me like yesterday’s news. Maybe Ben didn’t even need his father’s convincing to do that. Our senior year had started, and I might have been able to push that fact from my mind in the coziness of our little bubble this summer, but he was Ben freaking Pierce.

Why would he wait for a girlfriend who got herself arrested and locked in the loony bin when he had access to his pick of girls still in school?

My thoughts spiraled until I wondered if I did actually need the suggested one-on-one sessions with Dr. Clementine to round out the mandatory group therapy every morning.

“Would it kill this place to bump the thermostat up a couple degrees?” I grumbled as a violent shiver racked my body. The thin, threadbare blanket, bleached white like the rest of the décor, did nothing to combat the chill. For the millionth time, my eyes traveled to my bare wrist, force of habit wanting me to check vitals on a missing watch. Mom had wanted them to give it to me, but a lack of any official diagnosis from a doctor had them shooting down the request faster than she could explain.

I huddled in on myself, trying to warm up. Oddly enough, my attacks had slowed somewhat, but that hadn’t reassured me. Instead, it felt like I was waiting for the anvil to drop. Would this be my first one while locked up here? It was hard to tell. The room always felt cold, and apparently, requesting extra blankets was against the extensive list of Vedault rules.

A pale white glow began less than three feet from my bed, and I scrubbed at my eyes. It didn’t dim. In fact, it crowded closer, dropping the temperature in the room with its presence.

Ding, ding, ding, we have an answer, ladies and gentlemen.

Soft humming, so quiet I thought I’d imagined it, grew until it became a shrill buzzing sound.

Pain, sudden and forceful, impacted me, so all-consuming that it instantly shocked my brain into checking out.

Black.

When my eyes finally reopened, three orderlies crowded my room—no, wait, not my room—a different room. It was less utilitarian dorm and more hospitalized, right down to the IV and heart rate monitor.

“…just to help you sleep, Miss Walker,” someone was saying.

The world blurred and focused in and out. It was difficult to tell what was real or not as words filtered by me.

“…you’ll see. For your own good…”

Faces warped, distorted and garish, as if someone had placed funhouse mirrors everywhere.

The intensity of one gaze, dark and arresting and clearer than anyone else present, stilled my panic when I caught it. Those eyes widened a fraction, but I locked onto them like they were my lifeline as I slipped unconscious once more.

When I woke, the full force of the sun shone through small, high windows to my left, and some cheery oldies song my parents liked played from somewhere.

I went to sit up, and only then did I notice the padded restraints encircling my wrists. A quick tug verified my ankles were free though.

“Hi, dear,” a sweet voice called, interrupting my mental freak-out. A petite nurse—much like my mom—stood nearby, dressed in bright magenta scrubs. “I figured you were awake. Your heart rate spiked.”

I had to lick my lips twice to speak. How long had I been out? Or what had they injected me with? “Aren’t heart rate monitors supposed to beep?”

The nurse laughed. “Only on dramatic TV shows. It would be pretty annoying to recuperate in a hospital with constant beeping in your ear. Although I suppose I could turn the volume on if you’d like.”

“Ah, no, thanks.”

“You experienced quite the adventure last night,” she replied as she fiddled with things, her movements bearing the quick efficiency of a task that’d been performed a hundred times over. “Are you feeling up to any visitors?”

I blinked, glancing down at my wrists.

The nurse cast me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, dear. We can’t take those off just yet. Hospital policy says they must stay on unless under direct supervision of a trained orderly, and not when guests are present, for at least twenty-four hours after a specified event.”

“Like the one last night.” I blinked at the flash of quick memories running through my thoughts, focusing on the intensity of that pair of eyes, and wondering why they’d been so crystal clear when everyone else had been warped beyond recognition. “And I was unaware that policy ” —because it ruled everything here— “ would allow me visitors after a… specified event.”

I’d wanted to roll my eyes at her politically correct way of describing what I recalled happening, but apparently, labeling it a psychotic freak-out aloud was a step too far for my coping mechanisms.

“Of course, dear!” she replied, cheering right up. “This isn’t prison, after all.” The handcuffs directly contradicted that statement, but my normally sarcastic quip couldn’t edge past my raw nerves without scraping new wounds. “I’ll go tell him he can come in.”

Dad.

I melted into the bed because he was the exact thing I needed right now.

A shoe scuffed and then squeaked from the doorway, and I glanced over.

My brain took a second to process the fact that I recognized the young, handsome man whose broad shoulders filled the hospital doorway.

“Oh. You’re not Dad.” My mind caught up and sent blood flooding to my cheeks.

Ben wore jeans and a school T-shirt that bore the West Winsor High Wolverines logo, a new design since I didn’t recognize it, and that tallied another reminder to how school had started already—far removed from the insanity my life had fallen into.

“Sorry,” he apologized, as if any of this was his fault. I drank in his familiar features and basked in the warmth his presence brought. “Should I go?”

“No!” I blurted, probably too quickly, but his amused dimples appeared, and a small piece of my terror eased away.

Ben stuffed one hand in his pocket, and the action drew my gaze to his other hand that held a stuffed bear with a sweet smile, hugging a red heart. He noted my focus and took quick steps to finally enter the room. “Oh, here, I thought you’d want something…” He trailed off as he noticed the restraints. Pink blossomed high on his sculpted cheekbones of his before his expression darkened to anger. “Why are you cuffed to the bed?”

If my cheeks were warm before, they had nothing on the inferno of shame that raged to life with his angry question, and oh, was Ben angry. His jaw cut a sharp line as he clenched fists around the poor teddy bear.

“Hey,” I whispered, nodding at the bear. “Can you set him here? Before you crush him?”

For a long moment, Ben didn’t move, and I shifted around on the bed, wanting so badly to bite my nails or play with my hair or something to release the tension.

He must have noted my unease, because he sighed and tucked the teddy up close, offering me a dimpled, albeit weak, smile. “Him?”

“Yes,” I determined. “He. Frankie.”

This time, Ben’s smile warmed his chocolate eyes as a laugh startled loose. “Frankie? That’s an absurd name for a stuffed animal.”

I used my elbow to press Frankie to my side, covering both the bear’s ears. “Your words are hurtful, Ben. Leave poor Frankie alone.” Ben’s grin slipped as he shifted on his feet, and just like that, the warmth leeched from my system. My heart clenched so tightly it became hard to breathe. “You’re here to break up with me.”

Ben blinked. “What? No! Why would you think that?”

Because I was in a hospital with my arms cuffed and only vague, blurry memories of why I needed to be? Because he was one of the most popular guys in school and could have any girl he wanted, so why would he pick someone with so much baggage? But he was right. Ben was too kind to be here to break up with me.

Eventually? Yeah.

But now?

I swallowed twice and offered him a smile. “No, you’re right. Ignore me. I’m feeling a little weird.”

His concern switched to my well-being, which made my heart clench all the more. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

My throat swelled up, and I cleared it. Without giving myself any time to back down, as calmly and seriously as I could despite my blushing cheeks, I said, “Yes, actually. Can you kiss me?”

Ben went absolutely still. His chest didn’t even rise with his breath.

It was already a big ask, and his reaction terrified me so much that I was backpedaling before my brain even registered the words flowing from my mouth. “Never mind. That was a dumb question. Forget I asked. Please. It was—”

“Willa, stop,” he pleaded, but his face was pinched with pain.

“No, it’s okay. Really, Ben—”

“ Willa. ” It was my turn to go motionless, and he sandwiched my hand between his when he saw he had my attention. “I want to. Believe me. I want to.”

My heart dared to defrost a fraction. “You do?”

He gave a half laugh that fell into a groan of frustration. “Of course I do. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined it?”

My eyes rounded. “You have?”

Ben shook his head, and I thought he meant no, but it was in exasperation. “Thought about what it’d be like to kiss you? Only every time we’re together, and most of the time we’re apart.”

My heart burst into a frenzy, as if to rebalance me after holding my breath in anticipation. “Oh, that—um, oh.”

He released a genuine laugh this time, using one hand to cup my cheek. His thumb traced my cheekbone, and his dark brown eyes held me more captive than the restraints. It was like he’d reached in and told my soul to pay attention to him , and she happily gave in. “Yeah, oh , but this is your first kiss, and I want it to be special for you. Not something like you losing truth or dare in some random middle school party with someone you don’t even remember the name of.”

I blinked at the stab of irrational jealousy that swelled within me. It was stupid to be jealous of something from so long ago, but it just cemented the fact that he was so experienced he couldn’t recall his first kiss while I was still hanging onto my never been kissed card.

“It should be after a perfect date, where I romance you with flowers and dinner, and I walk you up to your porch and worry if your dad will barge out the front door, threatening me, and after, you run upstairs and replay it over and over again as you fall asleep with a dopey smile on your face,” Ben continued. “Not here with you strapped to the bed, where half a dozen different people could walk in at any moment.”

“Okay,” I said, and to my absolute surprise and horror, my eyes burned with tears. With my stupid hands in their stupid restraints, I was helpless to do anything as the first, fast tear spilled down my cheek. I turned away, but if Ben’s groan of frustration was anything to go by, it’d been too little, too late.

“Oh, forget it.” Ben’s hand nudged my face his way. I had half a second to register what was happening before his soft lips closed on mine.

I melted.

Time stopped, and I melted into him.

The moment felt life-altering, and I knew it would be etched into my memory—the smell of his cologne, the taste of mint, the feel of his thick fingers cradling me close, and the reassuring press of his lips on mine—even when I grew old and gray and could barely remember the names of my teachers and classmates.

His other hand joined the first as he cupped my cheek and angled our faces close enough so the sharp scrape of his stubble ignited the delicate skin of my cheeks.

He didn’t push for more, but I liked that. It was hot but sweet, especially when he eased off just enough to drop a kiss on my nose before his eyes opened, studying me. From this distance, with our foreheads still pressed together, I could see the darker flecks of black that filled his honeyed brown eyes.

“Wow,” I blurted, surprised by the breathless quality of my voice.

It would have been embarrassing if a beaming grin hadn’t split Ben’s face at my reaction.

“Wow,” he agreed, amused.

A matching smile grew on mine. “Thank you.”

His breath caught before he laughed. “Willa Walker, you did not just thank me for kissing you.”

He stole a series of quick pecks against my lips, more teasing than anything. As soon as I’d move to respond, he’d already retreated. I grew frustrated enough that the bed rails clanged when I moved to hold him in place, only to recall my predicament.

Ben, too, glanced at my hands. “Okay, I’ll stop. It isn’t very fair of me, and I’m a good sport, if nothing else.”

We spent the rest of our time together with him catching me up on the start of school. The topics stayed light, purposely avoiding anything involving my arrest or why I’d been out in the middle of the night, and certainly nothing about why they’d cuffed me to the bed, even if his eyes did trail to the restraints more than once.

I was grateful for that. Maybe later, I’d over analyze it as disinterest, but I had no answers to give anyway, so the easy topics gave my busy mind a break.

My cheeks heated when Ben moved onto the guys’ concern for me. Apparently, all three had been pestering him for updates, but he seemed the most surprised by Kolton’s one-eighty.

“He was ready to fight me on this, and now he’s your biggest supporter,” he repeated, a little disgruntled.

“Don’t sound so miffed,” I teased.

“Ha-ha. I’m just confused.” Ben gazed off into the distance. “I know my best friend. This big change has to have a reason.”

I shrugged. “If there is, it beats me.”

His brows lowered in thought, but before he shared what was bothering him, an orderly came in to collect me, nudging Ben to leave without telling him that I had a mandated therapy session to attend, thank goodness.

“Alright, I’ll be back to visit you tomorrow,” Ben said.

All at once, guilt swamped me. “Ben—”

He cut me off with a quick peck on my forehead. “Nope. It’s Sunday, and you don’t get to tell me if I can or can’t see my girlfriend when it’s the weekend.”

The orderly, a rotund man bearing a cheery disposition, patiently busied himself with something on the far counter that I’d seen him take care of not even three hours ago. I appreciated the semblance of privacy, even if his hands were tied as much as mine with the religious, almost fanatical attention this facility paid their schedules and policies.

I licked my lips. “It’s just—”

Ben leaned in again, and just like that, I’d lost count of how many kisses I’d had now. Ten? Eleven? Twenty? How does one go from zero to unknown in the span of an hour?

“Nope. I’m coming over.” He winked. “Live with it.”

I huffed, even as a grin fought to break free.

My efforts went to waste, though, because he laughed. “Yeah, exactly. Besides, you have to be alive to pretend to hate me, right?”

His play on his earlier words had my nose crinkling.

“That’s morbid.”

“But true!” He blew me a kiss as he left, and his chuckle trailed down the hall until an elevator dinged its arrival.

Just great.

He was totally going to make that awful, morose phrase our thing.