20: A Way Out

20.

Ivy's POV.

I can’t do this.

The thought circled in my head like a vulture as I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.

My face was pale, my lips pressed into a thin line, my eyes dull and tired. I barely recognized myself anymore.

I had done exactly what Demi wanted.

The lingerie was already on, delicate and lacy against my skin, hidden beneath my clothes. But it felt like a second layer of shame, wrapping itself around me, suffocating me.

I ran my hands down my thighs, pressing out imaginary creases in my jeans, but the movement did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. My stomach churned, and the thought of what I was about to do made my skin crawl.

Then, as if on cue, my phone vibrated on the dresser. I swallowed hard, already knowing who it was.

I picked it up, my hands clammy as I read the message.

Demi: It’s finally the day.

Demi: Don’t even think about chickening out.

Demi: Unless you want your mother and the whole school to know what you’ve been up to.

Demi: I’m sure Harvard would love a student like you.

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palm so hard it hurt.

I hated him.

I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone in my entire life.

My stomach twisted violently, nausea creeping up my throat, but I forced it down. It didn’t matter how I felt. It didn’t matter that I wanted to disappear. I had no choice.

I glanced at my bedroom door, then at the quiet house beyond it. My mother was gone for the weekend. So was Brandon’s father.

There was no one to stop me. No one to ask where I was going and I should have been relieved. But instead, I felt like I was walking toward my own execution.

Grabbing my bag, I moved toward the stairs, my vision already blurring.

I wiped at my eyes furiously. I wouldn’t cry. Not yet.

I stepped out of my room, blinking rapidly, willing the tears to stay down. But the moment I made it to the stairs, I collided into something solid.

A firm chest.

I stumbled back, my breath catching as I looked up to see Brandon.

Of course. How could I forget that he’d be home too?

He was standing on the staircase, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, with his gaze sharp and assessing. His eyes flickered over me, taking in my appearance.

“Where are you going?”

I straightened, masking my panic with irritation. “None of your business.”

His lips tilted into a smirk, but there was something else beneath it. curiosity, suspicion. “Dressed up and sneaking out? Let me guess. Off to see your boyfriend?”

My fists clenched. “Get lost.”

I didn’t have it in me to deal with his bullshit. There was no space in my head for it.

So I moved to step past him, shoving forward with every intention of walking away. But the moment I did, I felt something press against my forehead.

Cold. Sharp.

It hit me like a wave, seeping into my skin. My limbs turned heavy, and my knees weakened beneath me.

What in the world is happening??

The strength drained from me so fast it felt like I was being ripped from myself.

The world spun and my vision blurred into streaks of light. And the last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me whole was Brandon’s face.

****

When I opened my eyes again, everything was dark.

I blinked, my mind hazy, my body heavy as if I had been asleep for days. My room was silent, eerily so. I reached out blindly, my fingers brushing against the familiar fabric of my jeans. I was still dressed. That realization made my stomach drop.

I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, my hands shaking as I pressed the power button. The screen lit up, and my heart slammed against my ribs when I saw the time.

12:17 AM.

Midnight.

No. No, no, no.

My breath came out shaky as I sat up, forcing my groggy mind to focus. I was supposed to be with Demi. I was supposed to have gone to him hours ago.

And yet, I was here. In my room.

How?

Panic clawed at my throat as I checked my phone again. There would definitely be messages from him. Angry ones, threats.

But there was nothing. No notifications of missed calls, no texts. The last message was from him that morning, reminding me what would happen if I backed out.

What the hell happened?

I struggled to remember, but my brain felt foggy. I remembered leaving my room. I remembered running into Brandon on the stairs.

And then… nothing.

Just blankness.

My hands trembled as I unlocked my phone and quickly typed a message.

I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, but I swear I didn’t mean to miss our meet up today. Please, please don’t be mad. I'll make it up to you today.

I hesitated before sending it. It felt like I was signing my own death sentence.

The second the message was delivered, my chest tightened with dread. I sat there, gripping the phone, waiting. Watching.

But nothing came.

No response.

The silence felt suffocating. I couldn’t sleep, not like this, not knowing what kind of punishment was waiting for me. Every time I closed my eyes, my stomach twisted with fear. 

What if he was planning something worse than usual? What if this time, he really did send everything to my mom? To the school?

I curled into myself, hugging my knees, my breath uneven. I watched the clock on my phone, counting down the minutes until morning, feeling like I was waiting for my own execution.

But still nothing.

No messages. No calls.

By the time the sun started peeking through my window, my nerves were completely shot. I hadn’t slept at all. My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to rest.

I tried calling him, and each call went straight to voicemail.

Demi never ignored me like this. Something wasn’t right.

I barely made it through the morning. My stomach upset too much to eat, and every sound in the house made me flinch. I felt like I was walking through a fog, detached from reality, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Monday morning when I got to school, my hands were ice cold. My heartbeat was a constant, uneasy drum in my ears. I kept glancing at my phone, half-expecting a message to finally pop up, but the screen stayed empty.

It didn’t make sense.

Where was he?

Jackie found me by our table, her usual playful expression was replaced with something hesitant. Almost careful.

“Hey,” she said, touching my arm lightly. “How are you?”

The question made me pause.

“Fine,” I said slowly. “Why?”

Jackie frowned. “I know Demi was kind of a jerk, but still he was your boyfriend.”

My brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

She gave me a confused look. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Jackie hesitated for a second before exhaling. “Demi overdosed on Saturday. And reports say he’s brain dead.”