11. Visiting

Making the best out of a bad situation is what I'm good at. I've been doing it most of my life. There has to be a way out of this—something I haven't seen yet. And until I do, I should just go with the flow, right?

I don't want to die just because I rejected a guy.

'...looks so sweet this morning.'

Victor's voice in my head wasn't as terrifying as it used to be. Not because it wasn't disturbing—it still absolutely was—but because I was getting used to it. Which was worse in a way. The anxiety hadn't left; it had just dulled into a low hum. At least he hadn't been close enough last night to hear. That was something.

"Hello," Victor said, appearing beside me like the world's worst magic trick.

"Yeah. Morning," I sighed, already regretting being outside before first bell. Just... go with the flow. Don't let things get out of hand.

"It was nice meeting your dad and his girlfriend," Victor said. "They're both really nice people."

"Yeah, they are," I said. Then added, because I really wanted to know, "Why did you stop by in the first place?"

"To see you. I really wanted to see your face." He smiled wide like that was a totally normal thing to say. "I thought popping up when you were home alone would be inappropriate, though."

Like that's ever stopped you before. "Fucking creep."

'She's not trying to escape like every other time! I've got her!'

"Hey, can I hold your hand to school?" Victor asked, practically bouncing on his toes. The desperation in his thoughts was deafening.

"Whatever," I huffed.

He latched onto my hand immediately, his face lighting up like it was Christmas and I was the only present under the tree.

'Me and my sweet Angel!'

"How do you feel today?" he asked.

"Awkward," I replied honestly.

"You don't have to feel so awkward around me. I won't push you at all," Victor said. "Remember, I said I'd take it slow."

"Calm down," I muttered.

"I am calm," Victor insisted, not calm in the slightest. His brain was racing so fast I was surprised he didn't pass out from sheer excitement.

And that's when it hit me. Every time I spoke to him directly—actually acknowledged him—he got flustered. Like I was some goddess blessing him with attention. If I played this right, maybe... maybe I could get him to stop living in fantasyland. Or at least get him to lose hope.

I just had to be brave.

"Stop making it so obvious you like me," I said.

Victor blushed instantly. Bingo.

"Obvious?" he echoed, blinking like he forgot how speech worked.

'Well isn't it because I already told her?'

I squeezed his hand slightly. That tiny gesture was enough to send his heartrate into overdrive.

Yeah. I think I might be able to snap this guy out of it eventually. Or maybe not. But for now, this was way better than being afraid.

***

Later, during a brief moment of freedom when Victor wasn't lurking nearby, one of Lara's old minions—Pop Music Girl—approached me from behind. I caught her thinking 'I wonder if she knows' and turned around before she could tap my shoulder.

She jumped. "Oh, hi... I don't know your name."

"Anne. I don't know yours either," I said. Her head was full of Hilary Duff and old teen drama soundtracks, so I wasn't too worried she came to start a fight.

"It's Bubbles," she said sheepishly.

"Bubbles? That your real name?"

"No, it's Katy. But everyone calls me that," she said, her inner monologue screaming at herself for saying it out loud. Apparently it was a joke that stuck from middle school. Now she hated it but couldn't shake it.

"Well, what do you want, Katy?" I asked.

"Lara fell down the stairs pretty hard and is seriously injured. But I think she finally might've hurt herself."

My blood turned cold. What the fuck? My mind immediately flashed to Victor—but he hadn't been near my house. Had he?

"What?"

"Yeah, the cops said she tried to overdose on liquor and Xanax, then jumped out a window. My dad said it was kinda brutal," Katy said casually. "I'm going to the hospital to check on her this period before coming back. Lucky she only got away with just broken legs, but now she has to do ten days mandatory for mental health reasons."

Just broken legs—like that wasn't a big deal.

'Jackie doesn't care, but I'm sure Anne wants to see Lara's fall from grace,' Katy thought. She was the only one of that trio who seemed to give even half a shit about Lara.

"Why ask me, though?" I narrowed my eyes. "I'm pretty sure I'm the last person she wants to see right now."

"Don't you want an apology from her or something?"

Did I?

I looked past Katy, back to where Victor was no doubt lurking somewhere with hearts in his brain and delusions in his pocket.

Maybe Lara wasn't the biggest problem anymore.

Maybe she never had been.

"Oh." I nodded, trying to mask the curiosity itching beneath my skin. I did want to see Lara apologize—if only to watch her ego shatter in real time. But something about this whole situation didn't add up. Why would Lara, of all people, try to off herself? And why now?

Unless... unless Victor had something to do with it. Which I highly suspected.

"I need to see her," I said. "Let's go visit."

"I'll take you in my car," Katy smiled, looking far too excited about this.

"If she looks ugly now, I'm going to make fun of her," I muttered.

'She's more like me than I thought,' Katy thought, amused.

We snuck off in silence, slipping through a side door of the school and into the student lot. Neither of us said much on the way to her beat-up blue Honda, but once the doors shut and the engine started, Katy started talking.

Apparently, Lara had hit her head badly—like, severely concussed. Her legs were broken in multiple places. She'd thrown up everything she ate out of fear. According to Katy's dad, who worked at the hospital, she was becoming increasingly paranoid and unhinged.

***

By the time we pulled up to the emergency entrance, my stomach had started doing flips.

A nurse led us straight to Lara's room. "Make it quick, please," she said. "Lara, your friends have come to see you."

"Okay," came a weak voice from behind the curtain.

Katy pulled it back without hesitation. "Hey, girl! I brought Anne! And I actually got her to come by herself."

Lara's face paled the moment she saw me. She sat up quickly, eyes wide, and her hand scrambled for the nurse's call button.

"Hold on, Lara—it's just us," Katy said quickly. "I know you don't like Anne, but I brought her here to sympathize."

Why did she look like she was seeing a ghost?

Katy's eyes flicked to mine, practically begging me to say something that would help.

"Can I ask you some stuff?" I said carefully.

Lara's face was full of desperation. She didn't want to do this. But Katy spoke for her. "Just ask her."

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were feeling this bad?" I asked. "You didn't have to try to kill yourself. I mean... this is pretty extreme, don't you think? Why are you so sad? What made you do this?"

"B-Because..." Lara's voice trembled. "I-I just... t-took too much Xanax."

That didn't feel like the whole truth. Her mind was fuzzy—clouded by meds, fear, or something else entirely. "And I felt b-bad about everything I've b-been doing. I-I-I'm so sorry, Anne."

"Oh?" I tilted my head.

Lara stared at me like she was waiting to be struck. Like she expected violence at any moment. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy watching her squirm a little—but I wasn't heartless. Not completely.

"I... I'm sorry," she whimpered again, her voice barely holding together. "I'm... sorry!"

"Fuck, I forgive you. Water under the bridge," I muttered and stepped closer. "I hope we're over the bullshit now."

I slowly held out my hand.

That was when she really lost it.

Lara recoiled like I'd pulled a knife. Her eyes bulged, fixed not on my face, but on my hand. Images flickered behind her gaze, sharp and vivid. Scenes of Victor—twisted, horrifying versions—ran on repeat in her mind. Him towering over her. His fist flying at her face. Her being dragged by the hair. Her body hitting the wall. The stairs.

Then his voice: Stay away from Anne. Or next time, you won't live.

She scrambled again for the call button. "Lara, you peed!" Katy exclaimed, noticing the soaked sheets.

But Lara didn't seem to hear her. Her eyes were still locked on me—terrified, trembling, hollow.

"I'll call the nurse for more sheets," Katy offered, already halfway to the hallway. "But maybe now you can feel better with no hard feelings left. Lucky she forgave you! Cheer up!"

I leaned closer, dropping my voice. "Lara, are you okay? If something is going on, please tell me. Were you threatened?"

"Yes!" she whispered, voice shaking.

"Yes, you were—"

"I'M FINE!!!" she screamed, snapping her head away, clutching the blankets like they'd save her.

Katy and I tried for a few more minutes, but Lara had shut down. Her thoughts were a mess—slurred, fragmented, erratic. She wasn't all there. And I had no idea what was the drugs and what was trauma.

"You guys need to leave now," a male nurse said as he entered, followed by two uniformed officers.

"See you in school, Lara," I said. I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder—some final gesture of peace.

But the moment I got close, she flinched like I was going to strike her. And then the memory hit me full-force through her mind: Victor, again. Punching her. Dragging her. Throwing her down the stairs like she was trash. The threat. The 911 call under her brother's name. The blood.

It was fucking brutal.

And it might have really happened. Or it might’ve been drugs.

I pulled my hand back slowly and instead gave her a small wave. Lara didn't wave back. She just stared, trembling.

As Katy and I walked back down the hospital corridor, I felt cold to my core.

What the hell had Victor done?

And what am I supposed to do now?