I jerk upright and run a trembling hand over my face, thoughts spinning in my head, feeding my panic.
My mind is scrambling, trying to remember… What day is it today?
Oh, no, no… No.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and snatch my phone from the nightstand before swiping the screen impatiently.
Fuck. It’s Saturday.
I have several missed calls.
Daria called a few times, and then, um… Mom?
Eve sent me several text messages back to back.
Eve: Where are you?
Eve: Are you okay?
Eve: Your sister called.
Eve: Your mom comes home earlier.
Eve: Daria wants you to pick her up.
Eve: Her flight arrives at noon.
Shit.
Too late for that to happen.
I call Eve.
“You okay?” she says, short of breath.
“Yes. You?”
“Mm-hmm. They dropped me off at home last night.”
“I know.”
“You do? Where are you?”
“In James Sexton’s bed,” I say, a smile beaming in my voice.
“Oh, my God. Are you kidding me? Are you in the king’s bed? Ohhh… You have to tell me everything,” she says, and for a moment, I forget where I am and how late it is, and that I have to get back and give my mom an explanation, not to say I have to face Daria.
“There’s nothing to tell. Nothing happened,” I say, disappointed.
“What? Are you serious? You said you’d spent the night in his bed...” she says, disheartened, more so than I am.
“I slept alone. He wasn’t even in the room with me. Anyway, it’s a long story,” I murmur, annoyed.
“Oh… Okay. So, when are you coming back?”
“As soon as I can. What did you tell Daria?”
“You went to the market to buy fresh blueberries.”
