Stay(90)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE





PHOEBE CAME BACK downstairs several hours after the sun set. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she squinted in the dim light. She slowly walked to the shower and turned on the water.

“Where Jackson go?” she asked and took off her clothes. “I see him leave with suitcase.”

My heart sank. A suitcase? Was it for him? I hoped not. Maybe he was carrying it for someone else. I didn’t want to even think about not seeing him for a long time. The hour-long gaps between our visits were hard enough. “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “And I don’t think he knew since he didn’t say anything.”

She took a breath and stepped into the shower. “Girls have hotel party. Maybe he take them.”

“Hopefully that’s all it is.”

“Is everyone gone?” I asked, feeling a spark of hope.

“Don’t know. Nate here maybe.”

“Oh. Damn.”

“Zane has new friend,” she called, her teeth chattering from the freezing water. “Tall guy. Dark skin. Handsome and strong like Zane. And mean like Zane.”

“Great,” I mumbled. “Is he going to stay in the house?”

“Think so. I see him before today too.”

I bit my lip. My stomach churned, not liking the thought of Jackson being alone upstairs with Zane, Nate, and the new guy. “Have you ever heard of Gone with the Wind?”

“Clark Gable?” she called and shut off the shower. The faucet squeaked and water continued to drip.

“Yes! You’ve seen it?”

“I have,” she said and wrapped a towel around herself. “Illegally on internet.” She gave me a small smile and tiptoed across the dirty floor. She stopped at the dresser and quickly pulled out an oversized t-shirt. She put it on, letting the towel drop.

“It’s based off of a book,” I told her.

“I not know that,” she said and leaned over to grab the towel. She wobbled and had to grab the dresser for support. I put my hand on the thin mattress, ready to spring up and help her. She straightened up and blinked several times before giving her head a shake as if she was trying to clear her vision. “You read it?”

I pulled the book out from under my pillow. “I’ve only gotten through the first couple chapters.”

“Oh!” she said, her dark eyes opening in surprise. “Where you get that?”

“Jackson,” I told her. “He brought it down. Do you want me to read it out loud?”

“Story time?” she said with a grin.

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “What else are we going to do?”

“I like that.” She flipped her head upside down and rubbed her hair with the towel. “You talk in different voices for characters.”

“Hah, I’ll try.” I repositioned my pillow and opened the book, flipping to the first page of chapter one. Phoebe tossed her towel near the shower and sat on her cot, combing her hair with her fingers.

“I expect accents!” she teased.

“You won’t want me to keep reading if I do that. My friend Lynn and I used to talk in British accents and pretend to be here on vacation. It was fun, until we ran into someone we knew.”

Phoebe smiled, pulling her face up and hiding some of her sickness. “Sometime I pretend to be American,” she laughed.

“I have to hear that accent” I said and put the book down, using my finger as a bookmark. She turned to me. Suddenly, her smile disappeared. “Pheebs?” I asked.#p#分页标题#e#

Her body began to shake. I jumped up. The book clattered to the floor, falling face down and bending the pages. I ran over to her.

“Phoebe!” I screamed. The convulsions increased, and she fell forward. I heard her face smack against the cement before I had the chance to catch her. “Phoebe!” I dropped to my knees. Phoebe’s body trembled violently.

“Phoebe!” I screamed again, though saying her name had no effect. I reached out to hold her, but stopped. I had no idea what to do. I was so scared. I shakily inhaled, tears blurring my vision. “Help me!” I screamed as loudly as I could. “Somebody help!”

Phoebe’s head smacked against the floor as the seizure intensified. I flipped her over and put my hands on her shoulders, trying to keep her still. Her eyes were wide open, and a look of sheer terror was plastered on her face. Blood oozed from her nose, and I wasn’t sure if it was caused by her falling face first onto the hard ground or if something had ruptured internally. I began to hysterically sob, crying her name over and over. I reached over her convulsing body and yanked the pillow off her cot.