"We should go out."
I'm sitting on my bedroom floor, folding my freshly washed laundry. My eyes are downcast, staring at a stain on my tracksuit bottoms when I look up at Layla through the mess of my brown hair.
"Hello to you, too," I smile, pushing my hair behind my ears.
Layla sits down in front of me, red hair pulled up into a slick ponytail. The usual mess of her curls has been straightened, and she's wearing a full face of makeup like she already knew to ambush me before she came. Her sharp, winged eyeliner threatens me despite the promising smile she wears.
"Why do you want to go out?"
"It'll be fun?"
"Why does that sound more like you're trying to convince yourself," I mumble, folding a t-shirt.
She pulled the t-shirt from my grasp and folded it herself. "When was the last time we went out? Can you even remember?"
I don't remember, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. I hadn't particularly felt like doing much lately other than staying in bed and avoiding Davina's calls. I knew that it was only a matter of time before she realised I wasn't sick.
"I need to finish my washing."
Layla sighed, grabbing one stack of my washing as she began folding. She speeds through half the pile before I've even started on a pair of jeans.
"What does Maia have to say about this idea?" I ask.
She scoffs, shaking her head. "Maia's answer was just very...Maia, you could say."
"So she said no."
"She didn't say no. She just said...nope?"
When she finishes her pile, she starts on another until only a few stray pieces of clothing remain. "I knew she wouldn't approve, and maybe I'm being crazy," she begins. "But I also thought, should we all really be staying home letting a bunch of criminals just run around dictating our lives?"
I reach out for her wrist, waiting until she looks at me. "Please don't think that you have to change your routine because of what is happening in my life."
As soon as I say the words, I begin to doubt myself. I couldn't be certain that Charlie wouldn't hurt my friends, too. If he didn't go after Sofia, what was to say that he wouldn't hurt someone else?
"Ree?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you okay?" she whispers.
There's Lay, always with the hard-hitting questions that throw you off balance momentarily. Luckily, I'm sitting on the floor.
"Yeah," I nod.
"You know what might take your mind off all of this?" she smiles softly.
"Going out?"
"Yes!" she claps. "I'll even do your hair and makeup."
"And pick my outfit for me?"
"And pick your outfit for you."
"Deal."
--------------------------------------------------------------
The music thumps so loudly in my ears that I wonder how regular club-goers don't have hearing problems. Or maybe they do. I wouldn't consider myself someone who knows many clubbers anymore. I wouldn't really consider myself anything but a safety hazard at this point.
I scan the room, almost like I'm looking for a potential threat. Who knows when I may get kidnapped next? Or just killed.
I snort, gulping down half of my vodka lime soda. Lay glances at me, frowning. "Are you drunk already?"
"No," I lie. I couldn't remember the last time I had six drinks in an hour.
A part of me missed this feeling. Even though I felt like I was constantly in danger, a part of me didn't care. The fuzzy feeling was beginning to lower my senses. I wondered whether I'd just laugh if someone came at me with a gun.
God, what was I even saying right now?
Slow down, Rhea.
Gah, who needed a subconscious, though.
"Another vodka lime soda," I say to the bartender. "You know I work at a bar, too?"
He smiles at me, grabbing a clean glass as he drops in a shot of vodka. "Nice!" he shouts over the music.
Lay orders the same as me before leading us away from the bar. We hit the middle of the dance floor, and I'm struck by the strobe lights, feeling slightly dizzy. I close my eyes, feeling the rhythm of people surrounding me.
An image of my mother suddenly strikes me. I feel it hit the pit of my stomach, spiralling up through my body. I don't know what triggers it; nothing in this club is a reminder of her.
I haven't let myself think about her in so long. It's a strange feeling, the idea that so many years have passed now, but it still feels as saddening as ever.
"Rhea?"
I must look upset because Lay is staring right at me, eyes searching my face. "Are you okay?" she shouts.
I nod, gulping down the rest of my drink.
I don't remember the sound of her voice, I realise. I don't have a single video of my mother. She's just stuck in photos, utterly still. I close my eyes again and picture what I can remember: her smile, the crinkle of her eyes, her warmth.
I try to picture a memory with Dean, but everything seems to slip past me before I can reach for it. I don't even bother with the man whom I once called my father. If I've accomplished anything in my life, it's the ability to ignore his memory.
"I can't let Brax go to jail," I say to Lay.
"What?" she frowns, leaning closer to me.
"I can't do it," I say. "I've already ruined enough lives."
"I can't hear you! Talk louder."
I don't bother, though. I grab her hand and pull us in further until we're lost in the sea of nameless faces. I like the anonymity of it. Not a single person in this room besides Layla knows me. No one knows what I've done.
I can feel my phone buzzing in my shoulder bag. It takes me a few attempts before I can reach for it, bumping shoulders with a girl who glares at me. "Sorry," I mouth, but she's already turned away, swaying her hips.
When I finally have the phone in my hand, Brax's name appears across my screen. I hate the feeling in my stomach when I read those four letters. I'm not sure how long my thumb hovers over the accept button; it could be three seconds or twenty. Time seems to be escaping me.
"I'm out!" I shout.
"Rhea?"
"Huh?"
"Where are you?"
"WHAT?"
Layla asks me who it is, but I pretend I can't hear her. I'm not sure how she'll take it if I say it's Brax. She's less judgemental than Maia, but that doesn't mean that she wants me to make bad decisions.
"Rhea, are you drunk?"
That I hear. I laugh, shaking my head. "What if I am?"
"Where are you?"
"Nowhere!"
"Rhea!"
"Bye."
I laugh at nothing. I laugh at everything. I'm losing my mind inside my own head. Layla is looking at me like maybe she shouldn't have brought me here.
"Are you having fun?" I ask her, smiling.
I grasp her hand and twirl her around. She spins lackadaisically, almost like she'll do anything to make me happy.
I pull her into a hug. She smells like roses. My mum used to smell like roses. I think?
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes as she places her arms around my back, kissing my cheek. "I love you," I say.
She squeezes me and I pull away, abruptly turning from her so that she doesn't notice the tears. I hope she just thinks I'm drunk if she does.
I can feel my phone vibrating again but I don't answer it. I focus on the thumping of the music in my chest, almost rhythmic with my heartbeat.
I hate whatever song they're playing but it doesn't even matter. Nothing really matters.
Layla tries to grab my shoulder. When I turn towards her, I realise I've drifted forward. People crowd me, Layla's face gets lost as she calls my name. I try to tell her I'm fine but the words don't come out. She disappears from view but I see her trying to get to me.
The crowd seems to go on and on, like a never-ending group of bodies. I don't see a way out as I feel swear dripping down my back. I need air.
"You okay, sweetheart?"
I blink up at a man who suddenly as his arm wrapped around my lower back. We're so close that I can feel his chest against mine.
I know he isn't actually concerned for me. He's looking at me like I'm nothing more than a meal.
Brax. I want Brax.
No. No Brax.
I feel the man's hand slider lower, until he's touching my ass. He grips it harshly, pushing us closer together.
He leans in to kiss me and I don't stop him. His lips are cold and I feel disgust sitting heavy in my stomach.
It isn't long before he's ripped away from me and I stagger back. I except a furious Layla to be glaring at him, pulling me away.
Instead, I'm greeting with something far worse.
"Brax?"
I start to laugh. I try to cover my mouth but it only makes me more hysterical.
The guy he pulled from me is long gone. Brax stands before me. He just watches. Neon lights blink across his face. His eyes look strange, saddened even.
It feels like time slows down and he doesn't make to move towards me. There's a small gap between us as people keep dancing.
He suddenly pulls out his hand towards me. "Don't make this hard," he says over the music.
Layla suddenly appears through the crowd next to me. Before she says anything, he head whips towards Brax.
Brax still watches me, his hand doesn't move.
"Rhea, please."
Layla grabs my hand, squeezing. She begins to walk us through the crowd. Brax stops her.
"Let me take her home," he says to Layla.
I zone out of their conversation, staring at the disco ball above me. It glistens so eloquently, like a starry night.
We start moving again. Or, more accurately, I'm dragged my Layla. My legs feel wooden.
Cold air hits me fast and I relish in it. "I need to sit down," I say.
"Car is just here," Brax says.
I look up to find us stopped on the side of the curb. Sof is sitting in the passenger seat. When she turns towards me, she looks worried.
Layla helps me into the back and I all but fall on top of her. She buckles me in like I'm a child again and I rest my head on her shoulder, feeling myself begin to drift.
"Rheaâ"
"Take us both to hers please, Brax," Lay butts in.
I don't hear much else before I slowly drift off to sleep.