All the Little Truths (English Prep 3)

My mom and I both paused for a few seconds before we heard it again. Fuck. Madeline.

Madeline’s screams grew raspier, and my mom panicked, running to the steps, but thankfully, I was faster. “Mom, don’t. She’s having a nightmare,” I said over my shoulder as I bypassed her. “I can fix it.”

I very blindly let the statement fall out of my mouth with confidence. I can fix it?

Madeline’s shrill scream had my chest splitting open. I scrambled up the last step, flung my door open, and all but dove onto the bed, ready to shake her awake.

Her screams felt like nails being drug across a chalkboard. They were loud and real. Very, very real.

“Madeline!” I shouted, grabbing her and shaking her shoulders. Her blonde hair was all over the place, falling out of her ponytail. She was no longer tranquil looking. Her face was wet with tears that were spilling out from underneath her clusters of long, dark lashes. “Wake up.”

I knew she was in a different place, at a different time. Her head shook back and forth as her chest heaved. Her long legs kicked on the bed.

“Maddie!” I yelled, shaking her again. Her name on my lips sounded tortured. “Fuck this,” I muttered as I pushed my arms underneath her body and ran to the bathroom. Her head was moving back and forth, and I had no fucking idea how she hadn’t woken up yet.

Who has you, Maddie?

Whoever the fuck it was, was going to let go in 3, 2, 1.

The cold water hit us both, washing down on our heads like a downpour in the middle of spring.

Her blue eyes sprang open as she gasped for air. She almost flipped out of my slippery arms before I coaxed, “Madeline, it’s me. You’re okay.”

She snapped her head to me, the showerhead still raining down on us. Tiny beads of water ran down her face and blended in with her tears. A whimper of relief sounded from her pressed lips. I turned the water off at the same time she threw her arms around my neck even tighter. Her body shook and trembled as if she, herself, were an earthquake wrecking the world. Wrecking me.

“You’re okay,” I shushed, stepping out of the tub. We were sopping wet, dripping water all over the tiled floor.

What was I doing?

Madeline slowly pulled back to look at me, her arms still clutched tightly around my neck with mine underneath her legs.

I wanted to save her.

We locked eyes for what felt like years, but she didn’t let go. Her pink lips didn’t move an inch. Her eyes never strayed from mine.

And for once, I was actually okay with that.

I was okay with wanting to save Madeline, and for a split second, I think she was too.

Chapter Nineteen

Madeline

Eric’s room was so unlike the version of him that I was accustomed to. It was warm and inviting. I’d never seen the inside of his room, not up close and personal. I used to see small slivers of it when he would hold up those notes for me back in middle school, but since I cut him out of my life, he’d kept his blinds closed at all times.

His walls were a dark-navy color, but somehow, they made me feel warm. His furniture was the darkest and richest of wood. Even the lamp had a soft glow to it, like a cozy fire glowing on a cold night.

“Here.” Eric walked back into his bedroom as I stood there, peering down at the covers on his bed that I’d messed up in my psycho night terror. His stormy eyes wouldn’t meet mine as he thrusted clothes in my direction. “You can wear these.”

I couldn’t believe that I’d fallen asleep—on his bed, nonetheless. The blinds were open across the room, and I had been staring at them for at least a few hours. I knew his mom was home, so I didn’t turn his ceiling light on, only the little lamp on his bedside table. My plan was to just stay in his room with the faint glow of his lamp until my perpetrator left. I’d climb out the window, just like I did mine, and go back home.

But his pillow smelled so good. Just like him. All woodsy and clean. The last thing I remembered doing was trying to figure out exactly how to describe the scent when I’d closed my eyes and fell asleep. This was so embarrassing.

Before taking the clothes from his hands, I moved my gaze cautiously to the window. The car was still there. That stupid fucking red car.

Maybe I should have told my mom. But there were too many unknowns tied to that. I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me, and I was even more afraid she would believe me and tell my dad, causing a whole clusterfuck of bad.

I felt dirty. And guilty. And a little deserving. I was embarrassed to tell anyone. I hated that Eric knew.