Adam's List(35)

Strong arms wrap around me. “Whoa, take it easy.”

My eyes roll shut. I feel weightless.

I look up at a dimly-lit ceiling in a quiet room. Trying to roll to my side, I realize I’m in a bed and give in to the softness of it. Another wave of unconsciousness follows.

Someone touches my face. I struggle to open my eyes again.

Adam eventually comes into focus. He stands over me, his handsome features marred with worry.

“Am I dreaming?” I ask sleepily, reaching up to touch him.

His face feels warm. Real.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath before looking over his shoulder. “I think she was drugged.”

Shadows farther back in the room shift. Suddenly, Matt and Kelly stand at his side, as if appearing by magic. My best friend’s eyes are fearful, her cheeks smeared with mascara.

Fear pinches my chest. I choke on a sob. “What?”

She leans down, stroking my forehead. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re taking you to the hospital.”

Panic makes me more lucid. “What?”

If my parents find out, they’ll make me quit school and move home. They’d think I was too weak to be on my own. A raging burn fills me when I think of my entire life being ripped out from underneath me. I can’t go back to living under their constant supervision. My fingers clasp tightly around Kelly’s wrist, using the leverage to sit up.

“No! Just take me home! Please! I’m begging you, Kel! Don’t do this to me!”

Adam gently pries my fingers off Kelly and gathers me in his arms. “Everything’s going to be okay, Jewels.”

I snuggle into his chest, breathing in deeply, wishing I had the courage to tell him exactly how I feel. That he’s all I think about anymore, and I can’t ever get enough of him. That I don’t just want to be friends, because just the thought of kissing him makes me feel alive. Like I have something to look forward to again.

“Please, my parents would make me move home if they found out,” I say quietly. “I can’t do it. I can’t go back there.”

Reality weaves in and out.

Flashes of people appear then disappear.

Warm, brawny arms slip behind my legs and back, carrying me.

Muffled conversations trail after me.

Then, the appeasing smell of leather.

I’m in Adam’s Challenger.

Everything goes dark.

SEVEN

My skull swarms violently when I sit up, like I’m plagued with the worst hangover of my life. The sun blasts through our dorm room windows, showing Kelly’s empty bed, her turquoise sheets a mess like they always are whether she’s slept in them or not.

Somehow I ended up in my favorite cotton shorts and pink tank top that I usually wear to bed. Considering my bra is still on, I wonder if Kelly had to help me get undressed.

My eyes fall to the couch. Adam’s sprawled on top, my leopard print blanket from high school draped over his legs. How did he get here? Did I let him in? When I try to remember what I had to drink at the mixer, I vaguely remember talking to Dean, and realize my memories of the party have vanished with the daylight. Fear sinks in. I’ve had plenty of drunken nights where I couldn’t remember vague details, but I’ve never completely blacked it all out.

In addition to having a killer headache, my stomach feels completely out of sorts. It reminds me of the time in elementary school when my parents made me go on an old people’s cruise with them to the Virgin Islands. We took pills that were supposed to help with motion sickness, but they counteracted with my system and I walked around the ship with my hands out at my sides, thinking I was going to crash into the walls. Not only was it the most boring time I’d ever had on a vacation, but I spent half of it in our closet-sized bathroom, puking my guts out. My equilibrium was still messed up for days after we disembarked.

Only now, the feeling is amplified.

“Adam.” I reach for my bone-dry throat. When he doesn’t answer, I try clearing my throat and saying his name louder.

He finally stirs, then bolts upright. “Hey,” he greets me softly with one of his sad, plastic smiles. “How do you feel?”

My head spins like I’ve spent an hour on the world’s most maniacal merry-go-round.

Worse yet, bitter saliva rushes to my mouth with lightning speed. “I think I’m gonna hurl.”

Adam darts across the room to grab the trash can, holding it out next to me just as I hurl. He gathers my hair behind my head as I cradle the garbage between my legs. My body heaves as my stomach continues to empty its contents. I cough and gag, tears of pain burning down my cheeks as Adam rubs my back. It’s bad enough to get sick, but I’m mortified that he’s witnessing me at my absolute worst.