“No… I just couldn’t see anything, so you surprised me,” I tell him quietly. “You don’t need to stop.”
A short flicker of a pause, and then his lips touch mine again. For a heart-slamming moment, we remain standing, unmoving, frozen in some sort of peaceful bubble filled with nothing but us. Then he parts my lips with his tongue and begins to kiss me. He cups my cheek with his hand, his skin searing hot. He tastes like vodka and cigarettes, and it feels so good, even more than the first kiss, which was wonderful.
We stay that way for a while, kissing and touching, and honestly, I’m not sure I would’ve stopped had it not been for the random drunk guy who comes running over.
“Fuck, I’ve got to piss,” he curses as he jogs by us.
He stumbles, though, and slams into me, his shoulder bumping into mine with enough force to send me tripping to the side.
“Watch where you’re going,” Ellis chews the guy out while reaching for my hand. “Aves, are you all right?”
“Yeah.” But with the moment ruined, I’m reminded that the reason I wandered out into the darkness was to pee.
“Hey, Ellis, bro, is that you?” the drunk guy stupidly asks.
“Yeah… who the heck are you?” Ellis replies with a heavy amount of annoyance.
“It’s Kale, man,” the guy prattles on.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom really quickly,” I whisper to Ellis, then start forward.
He holds onto my hand until he absolutely has to let go, trailing his fingers across my palm and to my fingertips before finally the connection breaks.
My heart is a fluttering mess of drunkenness that’s high on kisses as I powerwalk through the darkness. I move less cautiously than I typically do, not paying attention to my surroundings, even with the forest nearby. But I’m too distracted by Ellis. And kissing. And touching.
But that all shatters the instant I step foot into the bathroom. The air is chilly and smells awful, but it always does. It’s quiet—almost too quiet. Usually, the bathrooms are buzzing with noise. The silence is a bit alarming.
Goosebumps sprout across my flesh as I round the corner while digging my phone out of my pocket. I want to text Clover again and see if she’ll answer. I want to make sure she’s okay. I want to tell her about Ellis and me kissing. She’ll be ecstatic for me. I know she will?—
I slam to a halt, nearly tripping over the person lying in the middle of the bathroom floor. It takes me a moment for my brain to process what I’m seeing.
Clover is sprawled across the floor, her blonde hair looking nearly white against the dirty floor. Her lips are parted, her eyes are open, and her leg is twisted in a way that it looks as if she fell to the floor, not laid down. She has dirt all over her hands and fingernails, and leaves and twigs are in her hair. Her dress and legs are also covered in mud, like someone dragged her through the woods.
“Clover,” I drop my phone as I kneel down beside her. “Hey, are you okay?”
She doesn’t blink. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t breathe.
She’s dead.
Oh my god, she’s dead.
I remain unmoving, suspended in a state of shock. But then her chest rises and crashes as she gasps for air.
I snap out of my trance and feel for a pulse. It’s weak, but it exists, which means she still does.
“I’m going to get you help,” I tell her as I pick up my phone from off the floor to call for an ambulance.
As I’m putting the phone up to my ear, Clover snags hold of my wrists.
“My clutch,” she rasps. “Aves, my clutch. You have to find it…” She trails off, her head bobbing to the side.
Tears spill from my eyes. “Clover,” I cry, my shoulders heaving.
“Hello, this is an emergency operator. How may I help you?” the operator answers.
“My friend… She’s dying,” I whisper. “Please, send?—”
The farthest stall door flies open, and a person wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled over their head barrels out. Panic flares through me, and I start to scramble to my feet, worried they’re about to harm me.
