your power || billie eilish

chapter one

"Juliette. Juliette."

I woke up with a start, springing forward under a mountain of blankets. It took me a moment to register where I was--the glow of a candle on the bedside table, the smell of maple syrup and aftershave, the thick velvet curtains...

Henry's house.

I was in his bed. He was crouched over, looking at me while he held my phone in his hand. It was ringing. I frowned, raising a brow at him in silent question. His face was pale as he muttered, "It's your mother."

Immediately, I snatched the phone from him and answered it. Mom.

"Juliette? Juliette?"

Sometimes I get sick of people repeating my name. They think I'm deaf or something.

"Yes, Mom? Hi. Are you okay? Why--why are you even calling me? You never call me."

I heard my mother inhale deeply and prepared myself for one of her rants--she was gathering her breath, readying her words, buzzing with anger. I could picture her, hunched over our dining table with a cup of coffee in hand, her face red as she pulled at her bangs. A nervous habit. 

"Juliette. I'm calling you because when I woke up this morning, you weren't here! No note, no text, no warning. You just disappeared! It was not only selfish, but also incredibly irresponsible, young lady. I nearly had a heart attack, thinking you had gotten hurt or kidnapped or God-knows-what! Your bedroom window was open...I thought somebody had snuck in here while I was sleeping and stolen you! You better have a very good excuse for this, young lady."

I actually did have an excuse, but it wasn't one I could tell her. Imagine: Oh, you know, I just snuck out in the middle of the night and ran three blocks to my secret boyfriend's house. Nothing bad.

If I said that, my mother would likely have a seizure right there on the spot. And if I told her who he was? The second she heard, she would be calling the cops. 

Anxiously, I glanced over at Henry, who was now sitting at the edge of the bed as he studied me with a worried expression. I gave him a light shrug, then said into the phone, "I woke up early this morning to go jogging with my friends. And I had the window open because my room was really hot. I mean, it's the middle of August, y'know. But now I'm at Lacy's house. Her parents already left for work and she and I are just hanging out."

I was kind of a seasoned pro at lying to my mother. Ever since last year, I'd been doing it, like, four times a week. I'd also been doing him, like, four times a week.

Sorry. Anyways.

My mother let out a small sigh. "Put Lacy on the phone, I need to ask her if you're telling the truth."

"She's showering, Mom. We're all sweaty from jogging."

A slight pause--should she take the bait, or keep prodding? Eventually, she hung up with a small "Fine." She didn't have the energy to put up with me. Not this early.

I put my phone down beside me on the bed and cleared my throat. Henry wasn't wearing a shirt. I'd taken it from him. It was oversized, grey, and had holes along the hemline.

The truth was much worse than the lie I had told my mother. First of all, I hate exercise, and sure as hell wouldn't wake up at the crack of dawn to go jogging with anyone. And second of all, my friend Lacy lives five miles away from our house. Did Mom really think that I had run five whole miles without dropping dead? 

In reality, I'd stayed up until midnight, when I knew my mother was asleep. Then I opened the window and scared the trellis that stood against the side of our house. I walked to Henry's house, which only took a few minutes, and knocked on his door. He opened it. I stepped inside. He closed the door behind us. We went into his room. I must've accidentally fallen asleep at some point, because now it was almost eight in the morning. I'd originally planned to walk back home right after meeting with Henry for a while.