Page 114 of The Addict

I snatched up quickly, pushing the button to read what was awaiting me.

1 message from David:

I took the liberty of telling the maid to clean up your mess. You should really be more careful. Oh, and a word from the wise. You could hurt yourself falling asleep in the tub like that.

I dropped the phone like it was on fire. David had been back, watching me. Just the thought sent a shiver down my spine as I sank onto my bed. David could have done anything, and here I was, feeling weak and powerless.

I laid back onto the unfamiliar feel of the new bedding, willing sleep to take over. I had no idea what tomorrow might bring, or if tomorrow would even arrive. I didn’t know what the little overdose would do to me, but I prayed that if death came for me, it would be quick.

Suffering.

That word alone could sum up my entire life.

As I felt my eyelids flutter shut, it seemed like suffering was the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

“Why do you sound sick?” Alex asked me the next morning, his voice crawling through the phone.

“I don’t know. I’m going to school, though.”

“You are?”

“I can’t stand it here.”

There was a brief pause. “You know, Noah, my offer still remains if you need it.”

I knew what he meant. A place to be. A home away from here.

“No. My mother needs me here.”

“What’s wrong with you? You sound so...dead...”

I smirked. “Do I?”

Chapter thirty

Cut at the Knees

DELANE

Iwent to my classes like usual, greeting my friends in the hallway and making sure I got to my classroom on time. I considered myself a pretty well-rounded student.

However, the dead weight that my cell phone produced in my pocket had been difficult to get rid of lately. I started to worry because I hadn’t heard from my parents in about a day, and they usually called me every evening and morning. It felt like they were always putting stress on me, especially now, with them being out of town, they had reminded me constantly of the monumental responsibility on my shoulders. Now, every time my phone buzzed, I rushed to answer, hoping it would be them—or maybe even Noah.

I had about five minutes to spare before the start of my next class. I considered if I had enough time to stop at the food court for a coffee, or something to preoccupy myself.

I stopped at a nearby table to readjust all of my heavy textbooks from my bag, grabbing my Chemistry book from its inky depths. Compared to Chelsea’s bag, complete with a mini cosmetic store, I considered mine pretty empty. I held no desire to bring anything to school that wasn’t going to assist me with my academic success. It was just me and my books.

Basic.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that my whole life was just a bland mix of luck gone wrong and college deadlines. I watched Chelsea, always the glamorous prima donna, having the time of her life, making friends and socializing. Meanwhile, I was on the sidelines, like a parent mindlessly observing their kid have all the fun as they wasted away. I had never known a time when I wasn’t the responsible one—always on time, always someone people could count on. It was exhausting.

To make it worse, I’d been caught up in all the chaos and drama lately, and I really didn’t enjoy that. Part of me was beginning to feel checked out with hobbies I usually enjoyed, and a small voice inside of me screamed to just abandon everything—all responsibilities—and pick up, and leave. Where to? I didn’t know. My daydreaming stopped abruptly and I checked my phone for the time. With a huff, I realized that by the time I got upstairs, I would be a few minutes late to my next class, and I was never late. I swung my bag back over my shoulders with irritation, because there was yet another thing to add to my list of issues: My perfect record is out the door.

“Hey.”

I jumped, the voice causing me to reel backwards. I was met with the smug looking face of Noah Hansen, leaning casually against the table in front of mine.

“Someone’s antsy today,” he said with a grin.