Call Me Ghost ✔️

Chapter Twenty

I don't sleep all night.

A mixture of nerves and guilt eat away at me as I toss and turn in my sheets, pulling out my hair as I relive every second of what went down between Ghost and I.

I can't stop feeling his lips pressed against mine, his hands running down my body. I won't allow myself to think about how good it felt, I won't even go near that thought. I just keep reminding myself that what happened was not okay.

My phone continually buzzes with a stream of texts and calls from him. I glance at a few of the messages, most are asking if I'm okay, if we can talk, if I can please, please, answer the phone.

Halfway through the night I just turn it off. I know that's a cowardly thing to do, but I just can't deal with it right now. I need to reevaluate what I'm doing, and figure out where to go from here.

Most importantly, I need to tell Brody.

I can't say I'm not scared to tell him, for multiple reasons. Mostly because I hate confrontation, but also because, well, it's Brody. When he gets mad he tends to act on that anger. I understand why Ghost was so concerned about me telling him alone, but I'm a big girl. I can own up to my mistakes on my own.

My frantic thoughts don't ease up even when sunlights begins to stream through the cracks of my drawn curtains. It's Sunday, so technically I don't have anywhere I need to be. I know there's some studying I need to do, I have some tests coming up in a few of my classes. Not to mention, my story has been left neglected for some time now.

I just have zero motivation to do anything but lie in bed and feel terrible.

The hours drag on agonizingly slow. I put a show on my laptop for some background noise, a feeble attempt to drown out my own thoughts, but it doesn't help. I know I'm just stalling. I keep telling myself as long as I'm still in bed I don't need to face reality. I don't need to seek out Brody to tell him everything.

Because I'm still in bed. So technically the day hasn't really started.

It's past noon now. I glance warily at the black screen of my phone, too scared to turn it back on because I know what will face me when I do.

My attention is drawn away when there's a light knock at my door. I panic for a moment, until I hear Annie's voice through the crack, "Hey, Em? You awake?"

I'm flooded with relief when it's just her and gently call out, "Yeah, come in."

The door creaks open and Annie peaks her head in, glancing around the dark room warily before spotting me under the large comforter. She looks concerned for a moment before telling me, "Brody is at the door."

I can feel the blood drain from my face. No. I'm not ready. I can't tell him, and I can't face him without him immediately knowing something is up. It will be written all over my face. The guilt.

I swallow hard, "Okay. Can you tell him to just come in here?"

She nods with pursed lips, but hesitates for a moment, glancing warily behind her before remarking lowly, "He, uh, he seems really mad about something. Are you gonna be okay?"

My throat clenches hearing that. Oh no. He's in a bad mood, that will make telling him even worse. A small spark of fear ignites in me, but I play it off cooly in front of Annie, "Yeah, no worries. I'm sure he's fine."

"You sure?" Her brow quirks at me, and I find myself wondering why she cares so much. I thought the ship for friendship between us had sailed. "I was about to head out, but I can stay if you want me to."

I smile warmly at her offer, for the first time today feeling some sense of relief. I want to tell her yes, I would love for her to stay. But I don't want to derail whatever plans she has. And I definitely don't want her to overhear the yelling that will no doubt take place between Brody and I.