The Hidden - Jessica Verday [36]
The sleeping thing concerned me, but I needed to wash off the remnants of seeing Vincent again before I could think about what it all meant. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it. I’m just going to go take a bath.”
A strange look crossed his face as I passed by. “Is that smoke?” he asked. “And vomit?”
Embarrassment filled me. “Yeah. Cyn was waiting for her mom too, and she was smoking outside. I shared her cigarette and it didn’t agree with me. Hence the hurling.”
I limped into the bathroom and started pulling towels down from the cupboard.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Caspian said.
“I don’t. I mean, I never did before. This was just something new I wanted to try. Figured I wouldn’t get another chance, so why not?” I turned on the faucet and adjusted the water temperature.
“Is this … going to be a permanent thing?” he asked slowly, a worried look on his face.
“God, no. Once and done. Now, can we please not talk about it anymore?”
He nodded, and I shut the door behind me. All I needed was a good soak in some hot water, and then I’d be ready to tell Caspian the important part.
About Vincent.
It wasn’t until later that night that I was able to work up my courage to tell him about what else had happened. He’d just finished reading three chapters of Jane Eyre, and I didn’t want to ruin the perfect moment. Time felt suspended when it was just me and him, together in our own little world, away from everything and everyone. Nothing mattered except the words on the page he was reading from, and the lilt of his voice as he spoke.
Closing my eyes, I took a breath and then said, “There’s something I need to tell you, but I don’t want you to get upset. So please don’t, okay?”
Would he be even more upset with himself that he’d fallen asleep and missed the chance to make sure Vincent didn’t do anything to me?
He closed the book and put it down on the bed. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”
“Probably a nine.”
“Okay …”
“Just remember that I had a really bad day today, and I threw up in front of someone at school, and there was puke on my shoes,” I said in a rush of words. “And Vincent Drake was there.”
“At school?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Cyn saw him too. He came up to us outside and sat beside me.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not exactly.”
“What did he do?”
“Held my hand and told Cyn that he was you.”
He was silent for a long time and then said, “Did you throw up before or after he was there?”
“Right after.”
He leaned back and looked away. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t stand not knowing what he was thinking, so I asked him, “Are you upset? At me? At him? Tell me.”
“I’m disappointed,” he said. “It kind of feels like you kept this from me.”
“But I didn’t!” I justified. “I’m telling you now.”
“Several hours after it happened.”
“I … I just didn’t know what to do.”
“You could have let me in. You could have told me right away.”
“But I’m telling you now. And you were asleep. And …”
“Well, I’m glad I know now,” he said.
But he didn’t sound glad. And I didn’t feel glad. Instead I just felt worse.
Chapter Ten
WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING
Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and with a scramble and a bound stood at once in the middle of the road.
—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
I knew right away that something was wrong when I woke up the next morning. Caspian was next to me, and he looked like he was taking a nap. But something was different. I could feel it.
“Caspian,” I said. “Are you sleeping again? I thought you didn’t need to sleep.” I got up and walked over to the side of the bed where he was lying, and stood directly over him. “Wake up.”
He didn’t move.
“Come on, Casper. Wake up!” I said again, louder. My instinct was to shake him, even thought I knew I couldn’t touch him. I called his name again and again, feeling a growing sense of unease. Why is this happening? What does it mean?