Falling in the Dark | ✓

30 | This

I'm greeted by heavy silence when I reenter the dorm room. As I walk towards my bed without glancing at Vera, I realize that the tension in the air makes the room seem much smaller than it really is. Struggling against the sensation, I sink down on top of the cool comforter and stretch my sore limbs.

Like a petulant child, I refuse to acknowledge Vera even when she walks over to my bed and calls my name. She lays a hand on my knee, begging me to please look at her. Moments later, I cave, sneaking a glance at her from the corner of my eyes.

"I'm really sor—" Vera begins, but I hold up a hand to stop her. She reluctantly falls silent, her bleary eyes devoid of all life and energy. Her skin looks raw and tired, her lips dry and her hair lacking its usual fiery hue. It's as though she has aged a decade in the span of one night.

She's an entirely different person from the sarcastic, fun-loving girl I befriended back home. A part of me hopes that when we return home for Christmas, Vera's old self will come back, too.

"Save it," I finally say to her. My voice is feeble, almost all the anger having drained from it at the sight of her in this state.

"Car, I just—" Vera tries, leaning closer as her eyes glint dully, desperately.

"Your apology isn't going to change anything," I say, sitting up straighter to run my hands through my hair. I wince when my fingers catch a knot. "You were acting crazy, it scared me."

"I know, I was so fucked up," Vera lets out a long sigh. She squeezes my knee with one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other. "I can only—"

"I think you need help," I say bluntly, the words shooting out of my mouth like bullets.

These days Vera's anger ignites like a match. And like a match being thrown into a dry forest, it spreads instantaneously. I watch her carefully, noticing the small signs of her rising temper. The quirk in her eyebrow, the twitch in her lower lip.

"What? Like, rehab?" she recoils from me, her face contorting with genuine shock. "I'm not a fucking addict!"

"I didn't mean that," I say quickly, lowering my head and leaning forward with the intention to placate her. "I'm worried, Vera. You keep saying you're okay, but you don't look okay at all. I just want to help you."

"I don't need help," Vera insists, scooting closer to me on the bed. For a second, the only sound in the room is the comforter shifting and rustling underneath her. She moves to wrap her arms around me in an awkward, top-half-only hug. Her voice sounds strange coming from behind my head as she says, "What I need is for you to accept my apology, okay? I'm sorry."

These words sound sickeningly similar to every other apology Vera has offered before. I have nothing to say in response, so I just stare vacantly into my lap as she pulls back to look at me.

A moment later, Vera's voice rings out dubiously, "Is that yours?"

"Huh?" I raise my eyes to her face in confusion. 

My stomach tightens as I follow her pointed gaze down to the denim jacket resting across my thighs. Without realizing, I had been twisting my fingers around Liam's jacket, taking as much of the fabric into my hands as I can.

"Uh, n-no," I falter, my eyes roaming the length and breadth of the jacket, desperately seeking an answer.

Should I tell her that it's Felix's?

But what if Vera knows it's Liam's jacket?

Why didn't I remember to return it?

When I hesitantly peek at Vera, I find her face open and curious, her eyebrows raised in mild amusement. The fact that the very first thing I considered was to lie to her causes my cheeks to burn with chagrin.