You're Not Okay, Are You?

I didn’t stop running until I got home.

I don’t even remember walking. I just... floated. Or flew. Or maybe I blacked out and someone dropped me at the front door, because one second I was humiliated in the middle of the hallway with a crowd laughing at me and the next I was shoving my key into the lock with shaking hands.

I slammed the door behind me. My knees gave out.

I slid straight down to the floor. Cold tile against my jeans. My breath caught in my throat and then everything just burst.

The sound I made wasn’t a sob. Not at first.

It was a choke. A hiccup. Like my body didn’t know how to cry yet. Like it had to warm up for it.

And then it all hit at once.

The sobs came hard and fast. My chest collapsed in on itself. My face crumpled. I curled into a ball, arms over my knees, forehead pressed to the inside of my elbow.

I bawled.

Like loud.

I didn’t care who heard.

Snot and spit and ugly, messy breathing. I couldn’t stop. My body shook so hard I felt my ribs knock against each other. I screamed into my sleeve. I wanted to rip my skin off. I wanted to rip him out of my head. Dominic. That stupid hoodie. His stupid soft voice. That look in his eyes when he said we’d face everything together.

Liar.

He said I was remembering.

He said we kissed before. That we knew each other. That we were cursed or bonded or whatever crap he made up.

And then today, in front of everyone...

My throat burned just thinking about it.

"You sure you're not confusing me with someone else?" he said. Like I was a stalker. Like I was some crazy girl obsessed with a guy who didn’t know my name.

And Blake.

God.

Blake, laughing like it was a joke. Like he wasn’t the reason I even started keeping my walls up in the first place. Like he didn’t cheat on me and then make me look like the crazy one when I cried in front of his friends.

I wiped my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. It was still Dominic’s.

I yanked it off and threw it across the room.

It hit the wall and crumpled like it had no soul.

Just like him.

I crawled to the couch eventually. Not walked. Crawled. I couldn’t stand up straight yet. My legs felt like jelly and my head was spinning and I was cold and sweating at the same time.

I laid there. Curled up. Eyes staring at the ceiling. Vision blurry. Not from tears anymore. Just... from everything.

And then the thoughts started.

What if none of it was real?

The dreams. The visions. The mark on my wrist. What if it was just some weird skin thing. A rash. A hallucination.

Maybe I was cracking.

Maybe I was losing it.

People said grief did weird things to your mind. Maybe I was still grieving mom and dad and it just finally caught up.

Maybe I imagined the connection with him because I wanted something. Anything. Something bigger than me.

Because otherwise, I’m just another girl with nothing but student loans, a dead-end future, and a sister who comes home smelling like perfume she doesn’t own.

Maybe werewolves weren’t real.

Maybe I really was just pathetic.

I covered my face again and cried until my throat gave out.

The door opened. I heard it. I didn’t look.

"Sel?"

I kept my face down.

"Hey... you here?"

Glendale. Her voice was soft, but not quiet enough to not make me flinch.

She walked into the living room and stopped when she saw me. I heard her bag drop.

"You okay?"

I didn’t answer.

She walked over and stood next to the couch. I felt her shadow. I kept my eyes closed.

"I brought home dinner," she said. "Some Thai place near 6th. You like those weird glass noodles, right?"

I nodded. Barely.

She sat down on the floor next to me.

"You sure you’re okay?"

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. If I opened my mouth, I’d scream.

She reached for my hand but didn’t touch it. Just hovered there.

"You wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head.

"Okay."

She sat there with me for a bit. Neither of us talked.

She didn’t press me.

But she kept glancing at the hoodie in the corner.

And that made me clench my teeth all over again.

My phone buzzed a while later.

I didn’t check it.

Buzzed again.

And again.

Glendale had gone into her room by then. Probably gave up. I sat up slowly and wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

When I finally looked at the screen, my chest twisted again.

SARAH

– You okay??

– Everyone’s talking about what happened

– Do you want me to come over??

– Call me

– Please??

My finger hovered over the call button.

I couldn’t.

I didn’t want to hear someone else’s pity voice.

I didn’t want the you-poor-thing tone.

I didn’t want the questions.

I just wanted quiet.

So I typed back.

I’m fine. Just tired. Don’t wanna talk.

The three little dots popped up.

She was typing.

Then they stopped.

Then they popped up again.

And then—

Okay. Just know I’m here if you need anything. Even silence. Just say the word. Love you.

I stared at that last part for a long time.

I don’t know why that broke me more than anything.

I got up and wandered to the bathroom. My legs were stiff. My mouth tasted like pennies. My eyes were puffy and raw.

I splashed water on my face.

The mark was still there.

Faint silver lines curling up my wrist. Like vines. Like scars that didn’t hurt.

I rubbed hard.

It didn’t come off.

"You lied to me," I whispered to the mirror. I wasn’t sure if I meant Dominic. Or myself.

Maybe both.

I turned off the light and sat on the floor of the bathroom with my back against the tub.

The silence was heavy. Thick.

And still, through all the anger and pain and shame... a voice in the back of my head whispered something awful.

But what if he didn’t lie?