Mag-log inVedant She’s not there when I return.A part of me had hoped against the odds that Chiara would still be there when I got back despite the late hour. But of course she’s not. She has a life outside of me.But what’s still there—and might be of some comfort to me—is my father’s liquor cabinet.Well,
Vedant I can’t believe that I’m back here already. Just hours ago, I had been here with Chiara. And in my mind, Iris had been alive.So much has changed, but I’m right back where I started the day. This time, though, I ask for where my father is when I arrive at the front desk.The nurse directs me
“Chiara,” I say. “Are you ok? Do you need something?”She shakes her head. “No. I’m fine.”But the truth is plainly different. She is burdened by something I can’t place.“Is there anything I can do? I know you must still be hurting–”“It’s not that,” she says, cutting me off.I blink. “Then what is
Chiara Vedant’s shoulders are slumped when he opens the door. His eyes are shadowed and unfocused, like he’s been drinking. It’s strange to see him like this when he’s always been so controlled and steady.But now he looks like something inside him has collapsed.I straighten at the sight of him, w
Vedant I go to the one place I know I still can return. Home. Even though I know my laptop is waiting for me there, devoid of any new messages from Iris. Because there will never be any new messages from her. Not anymore.Iris is dead.My chest still feels like it’s been cracked open, like someone
Vedant “What’s wrong?” Chiara’s worry is potent, and I feel immediately bad for causing her any additional harm while she’s recovering.“I, um…” I struggle to find the words. Are there even words to describe this? “I have to go.”I know I’m being abrupt, but I can’t have her see me like this. It’s
I avoid the flurry of women tying to make conversation and make my way to Simon, who I assume is here to accompany Alice. “Welcome to hell. Having fun?”Simon laughs and looks around the room. “I’m not sure that a party full of women, who all want to get with me is quite my idea of hell, but to each
ChiaraI don’t know what I did to deserve this.As I lay there, with a throbbing broken ankle, I can’t decide if the pain I feel the most is from the fact that I’m in Vedant’s house or from my recent injury. Every time I remember where I am, I nearly flinch.I can’t reconcile it. The boy who hates m
He looks startled. “I didn’t say I—”But I’m already grabbing my crutch, my ankle protesting as I limp toward the hallway. I’m hurrying despite the pain; I need to leave this room and escape his scutinous attention. All of the sudden, it’s too much.“Forget it,” I say. “Next time, I’ll let you figur
Alice I have never felt so disgusted in my life. It’s like my stomach is churning; I’m resisting the urge to retch, but just barely. Something about the way Vedant and Chiara are standing together by the lockers just doesn’t sit right with me.Not. At. All.They’re too close. There’s an ease betwee







