Page 56 of Vying Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #2)

Nic does care about me. I just have to be patient and hope I don’t kill myself on her thorns in the meantime.

I check my phone, in the habit of doing that when I can’t sleep. It’s gone three now. I’m going to be shattered come morning. I feel better now though, the sloshing ocean in my mind for the moment quiet and still. I try not to think of Nic and Skylar and those enticing glass rooms.

I’m finally drifting off when my phone illuminates again, this time with a phone call.

Blinking blurriness from my eyes, I see it’s an unknown number.

My heart clenches thinking it might somehow be him.

Then it slides to thinking it could be something to do with Mum, not ignorant to the statistics of pregnant woman homicides.

I’ve no doubt Callum took it all out on her after I left. He’s just the type.

Half sitting up, I put the phone to my ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Tilda? Thank fuck, you’re awake. Yeah, this is Skylar.’

‘Um.’ I shift, sitting up fully. ‘Hi?’

‘Hi. Look, things are kinda fucked here. Wait—are you alone?’

‘Yeah, I’m alone. Why, what’s up?’

‘Nic’s heart’s doing some weird shit and she’s freaking out and asking for you.’

‘What?’ I feel the whole of me turn to stone. ‘What do you mean?’

She sighs noisily. ‘I think it’s the drugs. She didn’t have much, but—look, can you get here or not? She’s refusing an ambulance or anything without you. Pissing me the fuck off, honestly.’

Heart pounding, I struggle out of my duvet. ‘Well, yeah, where are you?’

‘The dock for the Vaults. Do you know it?’

‘Um, yeah, kinda.’

‘Good. Just get here fast, will you, fuck. And don’t tell the others. She keeps saying that.’

‘Wait, can you just put her on a minute?’

‘Yeah, don’t think so. You can deal with her when you get here.’

She hangs up, and for a moment I’m filled with dislike for the girl, no matter how nice she tattooed me. Then my fuzzy brain catches up to the situation and with a curse, I unlock my door and fly from the room.

All the way downstairs, I keep my ears open. There’s no light beneath Elly’s or Haz’s doors. With any luck they’re fast asleep. Then I’m filled with something other than panic. Hesitancy, guilt. I can’t just run out on them again.

Once I’ve got my coat and shoes on, I dither for a long, anxious moment in the kitchen, before pulling out some paper and penning a quick note.

Just gone out with Nic. Don’t worry, I’m safe and not doing a runner, I promise xx

I don’t know if that’s true, but I figured a handwritten note would be better than a message in the group chat. If, by some miracle, I get in before they wake, I can bin the note and they’ll be none the wiser.

Just before I leave, I draw out a knife and stick it in my pocket.

Even in late spring, Hazelhurst is cold at night. I keep my arms wrapped around myself as I traipse purposefully through the forest, not allowing myself to look around, damning every tiny noise that make my ears twitch.

From running after me and saving me from Damien’s potential clutches, to forcing me to walk through the forest alone—it’s clear she’s on drugs. Those actions alone suggest that.

‘Nic,’ I hiss, worry and anger growing by the second. ‘For fuck’s sake.’

I wish I could turn my phone torch off, to develop a sudden ability to see in the dark. I feel like a lighthouse, beckoning to me whatever might be out there. Wolves; drunk, male students who might seek to take advantage of similarly drunk, female students; crazy, psycho, money-hungry stalkers.

It’s with both relief and terror that I finally break through the trees onto the shore. Two hulking figures sit on a bench to my left, half-hidden in shrubbery. Skylar looks up at the crunch of my shoes. She’s sitting on the back of the bench, her arm around Nic. Her face caves in relief.

‘Fucking finally. Hey, Nic.’ She puts a palm on top of Nic’s head and forces her to face me. ‘Look, your girl’s here. How about we call that ambulance now?’

Nic shrugs her off, getting to her knees on the rocky shore, gasping as she leans over.

‘Nic?’ I kneel down, hand touching her shoulder. ‘Hey, are you alright?’

She shakes her head, not even sparing me a glance as she staggers back to her feet and stumbles towards the water.

‘She’s been doing this for ages,’ Skylar says. ‘All restless. Can’t sit down. Dunno. Kinda looks like a panic attack to me.’

‘S’not,’ Nic bites out. She puts a hand on her chest. ‘It’s not beating right. It’s not beating right.’

‘Skylar, just phone an ambulance,’ I snap, angry at her for not doing exactly that straight away. Nic might not mess with head injuries, but I feel the same way about hearts. Especially knowing drugs are involved.

‘They’ll probably send a chopper,’ Skylar mutters, putting her phone to her ear. ‘Fucking dramatic, Nic.’

I turn back to Nic, standing in front of her to get her attention. ‘Hey. Can you tell me what you’ve taken?’

Removing her hand from her chest, I put mine there instead. She’s moving too much for me to feel anything.

‘Dunno. Skylar knows.’ She’s shaking terribly as she finally meets my eyes. ‘I wanted you here…just in case…if I die—’

‘You’re not going to die, idiot.’ I force a smile to my face. ‘Would have happened by now if you were going to.’

I think. I hope.

‘Right.’ Skylar hops off the bench. ‘They’re sending a helicopter. Can’t fucking land it here so I said I’ll meet them in the field, and they’ll bring a stretcher this way if she’s still struggling.’

She steps up to Nic and looks into her face, one hand curling around her arm. ‘Hang in there, babes, alright? Not having you dip out on my gear.’ She gives a tremulous smile, her face tattoos twitching. ‘Not good for business.’

She turns away, her folded arms a weak defence against her scant clothing, and disappears into the forest.

She had shown genuine concern. I don’t know whether to be touched or worried.

I rub Nic’s arm. ‘They’ll be here soon, okay?’

She nods curtly, eyes unseeing over the water. She doesn’t look particularly high. Her eyes aren’t weird or anything, not like before. A small measure of comfort.

‘Feeling any better?’

‘A bit,’ she mutters. ‘Still doesn’t feel right though.’

‘Okay. Slight improvement. How about, I dunno, your left arm? Is there any pain?’

‘No. Hadn’t been last time though.’

She sounds more gripey than panicked now. Another sign she’s coming back to herself. I draw in a silent breath, letting the adrenaline ebb a bit. I’m pretty sure she’s going to be okay. I fist my hands against the urge to hug her.

Her breathing’s still fast. I listen to it meld with the hissing wavelets at our feet.

‘Sorry for this,’ she pushes out. ‘I wasn’t thinking. You should be at home.’

‘You just panicked,’ I murmur soothingly. ‘It’s okay. I’m happy you asked for me.’

Because if that’s not a sign of care, I don’t know what is.

Of course, it could just be true that she didn’t want to get into trouble with Haz and Elly.

No. I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering her words. I wanted you here…just in case…if I die…

Giving into the impulse whilst I probably still can, I lean my cheek on her back, my arms cautiously lifting to cradle her from behind.

‘We’ll get you sorted,’ I tell her, relieved when she allows the comfort. ‘You’ll be okay soon.’

A short two hours later, after a speedy helicopter ride and the quickest run through A&E I’ve ever experienced, I sit at Nic’s bedside whilst she readjusts her clothing after her various tests.

No heart attack. Just something close to one and a large dose of panic.

THANK FUCK had been Skylar’s reply when I texted her the news from Nic’s charging phone. I threw it down, too angry with her part in tonight’s drama.

Nic sits back with a sigh, not happy with having to wait for discharge like we were told to. With her eyes closed, I study her face, her hair a little flatter than usual, her thin lips a light pink against her pale, sweat-dried face. She smells of sickly-sweet alcohol and smoke.

Reaching out, I cup her cheek. She’s been letting me do stuff like this. Each time I hold my breath waiting for a rebuff, a soft sort of thrill filling me when one never comes.

I stroke her cheekbone with my thumb, her vulnerability making me remember her as a kid.

We’d never dealt with true danger such as this, but there’d been plenty of times I had to offer her comfort.

Like when the neighbourhood kids ragged on her, or when her dad expressed frustration, something that always cut her to the bone.

I feel the same protective anger I had then. This time it’s directed at Skylar. A tiny bit at Nic herself. It’s not as though Skylar held her down and made her snort the stuff. Mostly, I just feel strangely privileged to be here.

‘I’m thinking I might just give Damien the money,’ she announces, her skin shifting under my hand. ‘It’s the safest thing for you.’

‘I hate that.’ That means the fucker wins, that Nic has to once again bow down to someone who should, if there was such a thing as justice in this world, be behind bars. Or, more preferably, fucking dead.

‘Yeah, me too.’

‘He’ll just keep asking for more. If he knows you’re easy, he’ll just keep on.’

Nic sighs, rubbing her face and dislodging my hand. ‘Nothing about this is easy.’

‘Well, maybe don’t think about it right now. Just concentrate on yourself. Hey. I know something that’ll distract you.’ As soon as her eyes settle on mine, I pitch forward and press our lips together, feeling the meagre kiss all the way down to my toes. ‘See. You’re smiling.’

‘Involuntary reaction.’

‘You called me,’ I point out. ‘Tonight, I mean. You asked for me.’

Nic blinks, as if she can’t quite remember doing that. ‘Couldn’t call the others. They’d behead me. Especially after today. Or yesterday now, I guess.’

‘You could have just gone with Skylar.’

She’s quiet for a long time, like she has no other defence. ‘I was just high.’

‘I’ve seen you higher.’

‘Tilda.’ She drops her head back. ‘What do you want me to say here?’

‘Just admit you care. It won’t kill you, Nic. Promise. It might even be nice.’

‘You deserve more than whatever version of care I can offer you.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Alright, mardy pants. No need to get all maudlin. Let me decide that for myself, please. Anyway, you said yourself you’re sick of hurting me.’

Nic hums, not quite convinced.

‘This isn’t ideal with Varsity coming up,’ she says, easily changing the subject.

‘Um. Nic…I’m not sure Varsity is the best idea, honestly. They said to rest your heart. I’m assuming that means no vigorous exercise.’

Nic turns her head to me, her expression harder than it’s been all night. ‘You’re not telling Coach.’

‘I might have to if you don’t.’

‘Tilda.’ She turns to me on the bed, capturing me in her steely gaze. ‘Fucking promise me you won’t tell Coach. Just for this—just do this for me.’ Taking my hand, she squeezes it tightly. ‘Please.’

We stare at each other for a long moment. With everything so precarious between us, I feel like I can’t say no.

‘Okay. I promise. I hate it, but I promise.’ She takes her hand back, eyes still on my face as though testing my sincerity. ‘Is Varsity really that much of a big deal?’

‘After last year, yeah. It is. It’s what I’ve been aiming for this whole time. It’s a…symbolic thing. It means I’m better, not the same person.’ Then she snorts. ‘Except I am, because this has fucking happened again.’

‘Will you tell me what happened last time?’

‘Nothing that wasn’t coming for me. Being at Hazelhurst was triggering as hell.

Knowing Damien had been there, then being initiated into the society he’d presided.

The drugs were non-stop for years, they were nothing new, but I went too hard last year and my heart gave out.

Not like this. Way worse. I’d already been kicked off hockey for not attending enough and just generally being sloppy. It was a pretty dark year.’

‘Thank god you didn’t know about me too, hey?’

Nic chuckles, real humour showing in her face. ‘Now that would have sent me over the fucking edge.’ She sobers quickly. ‘Haz sorted me out. And Elly, but Haz was the one who threatened rehab. She threatened all sorts, and I knew she would have gone through with it. Ended up quitting cold turkey.’

‘Until me.’

‘Yeah.’ She looks at me pensively. ‘Until you. Not your fault, of course.’

‘Oh. It actually wasn’t this time? Wow.’

‘Not your fault,’ she repeats, quieter. Taking my hand again, she closes her eyes. ‘Never was.’