Evie
I woke to the sound of someone turning a page.
For a few confused seconds, I stared at the purple fabric above my face and tried to remember why my head felt heavy. Not painful, exactly. Just slow, as though my brain had been wrapped in several layers of cotton while I slept.
Then the night before returned all at once.
The party. Jasper. Adrian’s hand closing around his wrist. The silent drive home. The kitchen at nearly three in the morning.
You told him no. That was enough.
I pulled the blanket over my face.
Across the room, another page turned.
Adrian was awake.
Of course he was awake. Adrian seemed to regard sleep as a personal weakness he had overcome through discipline and spite.
I lowered the blanket just far enough to see him.
He sat on the edge of his bed already d
