(Complete)
After a terrible encounter at a party, one year later, Hailey Fonte is ready to return to her hometown. With everyone against her because of last year's events and horrible rumors, Hailey must overcome many hurdles, which includes coming...
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For hours I find myself unable to get even a minute of sleep. I simply lay in bed, turn on my side, turn on my stomach, switch the direction my head is in, turn on my other side, then flip back onto my back. Nearly reaching a point of insanity, I glance at the clock—it reads 2:06—then I get up from the bed and wander down the stairs.
Expecting everyone to be asleep, I quietly sneak into the kitchen to search the fridge and pantry for anything to drink or eat. Maybe I am thirsty or hungry. Maybe I am too tired to think properly.
The fridge light burns my eyes, causing me to squint. My hands rummage around, sliding jars of jam and bottles of water from one side to the other as if something wonderful is behind them. After discovering nothing sugary-sweet, I grab a bottle of water and sit on top of the counter. I feel the chilled liquid rush down my throat, into my body as I take a gulp. Should I be sitting on the counter? Too tired to move, I rebel and stay seated, kicking my feet gently.
"Thirsty?"
My heart jolts and my eyes shoot up. Daniel. Standing. Hallway. My heart races as I try to recover from a possible heart attack. I place the bottle down beside me and take a few deep breaths. "You scared me," I whisper in a loud way.
"I know," he says in a normal volume. "Are you always up at two in the morning?"
I watch him as he opens the fridge, his eyes scanning around. "No, and there's nothing to eat. Well, unless you want a spoonful of strawberry jam."
Daniel also grabs a bottle of water, taking my advice on ditching the jam. He leans against the counter across from me, and I struggle to find something interesting to stay. "Are you always up at two in the morning?" I steal his question.
"Yeah. I'm not a very good sleeper," he mutters before taking a drink of water.
I nod. "I used to wake up at least seven times a night. Even when I was sleeping, it felt like an hour was only a few seconds."
Daniel watches me. He's probably wondering why I shared such a weird thing, and why I thought he would care enough to listen. "Was it because of this secret thing you did?" He asks, surprising me.
"You assume only one thing happened," I murmur, "what if I've done many horrible, secret things?"
"Then that would make you normal," he says.
I glance off to the side. If being attacked and having a relationship with a teacher is normal, then this world is much darker than I thought. I have done things and things have been done to me, yet for some reason, Daniel believes in only the one. I suppose I've contributed to that belief, though.
"So you've done many horrible, secret things too, then?"
Daniel nods, his arms crossed, one hand still holding his water bottle.
