Lilac's Lies

20

The phrase waking up in a panic has never meant much to me, until two months ago.

I didn't wake up in a panic the night after the so called prank. I woke up in Jesse's arms, the warmth of our bodies pressed together causing me to overheat. I wasn't panicked that morning, because there wasn't yet anything to be panicked about. It wasn't that day that our worlds fell apart. It wasn't that day that the secrets and the lies began.

The next morning, however, is when the panic started. After we heard the news, after the headlines about the fatal boat crash emerged. That's when the panic started. That's when the gravity of the situation started to kick in. Knowing that we caused a death, whether I was the one to play the prank or not. I was there, I had been a part of it. I caused that death, too.

And I had been waking up in a panic most days since then. Not only with the fear of someone finding out what happened, but the heavy elephant of the fact it had happened at all sitting on top of my morality. It was crushing, that knowledge. It crushed me more and more, every single day.

Today was no different. The moment the sun shined onto my skin, and I could sense the brightness even in my sleep, I sat up straight, clutching my chest. Feeling the weight of my never ending bad decisions. It took me only a second to register the fact I wasn't in my room. I glanced around at the expensive furniture surrounding me, at the same time I felt the pulsation of pain plague my head.

I closed my eyes, trying to fight the specific sick feeling in my head that only comes the morning after I drink too much. At the same time, the memories of last night shot through my brain. Clara, the fight, Samuel. Brett and Jesse finding out we lied. Roman. Roman. Roman.

I felt my stomach do a loop as the last words he said to me last night floated into my mind. If you were sober, you'd be in my bed, and you'd be naked.

Blush rose in my cheeks as I remembered the way he said it. He sounded like he meant it. He said it like a promise. And part of me wished he would follow through. Part of me wished that I had stayed sober last night. I thought about how it might have played out. I thought about how Roman would be in bed. If he could make my skin burst into flames by just a simple touch... how hot would I be if he really touched me?

I shook the slight excitement that had built through me at the thought away. I couldn't focus on this right now. I needed to find my dumbass of a best friend, and drag her ass out of this apartment.

I tossed the same white blanket that Roman had laid on me last night off my legs. As I heaved myself off the couch, I looked towards the hallway. There was only two doors, and I decided to try my luck on the one closest to me. I walked up to it, only hesitating a second before banging my fist against it.

"Clara, get your fucking clothes on!" I yelled, continuing my banging. "We have to leave!"

I heard movement behind the door, but no response, so I continued.

"I don't care if you're having the best sex of your life, you need to get your ass..." I screamed, but I was interrupted by the door swinging open. The motion of me flinging my fist into the door caused me to stumble a few steps forward.

The person who answered, wasn't Clara. That much was clear by the chiseled chest my hand was now laying on. I had flung my hand forward in attempt to save myself from falling. I looked up, feeling my breath hitch as a shirtless Roman stared back at me.

"Best sex of your life?" He mused, running his hand through his hair. "If that's what you're looking for, Lilac, I can certainly help you with that."

He tilted his head at me, the grin on his mouth growing larger every second that I didn't answer. Until, finally, he looked down to my hand, which was still touching him. Instantly I ripped it off him, taking a few steps back.