The lights are blinding.I stumble through the crowd of dancing bodies moving in slow motion. The bass of the loud party music reverberates into my skull like a drilling machine. My ears are ringing, my heartbeat in my throat.I feel drunk. Maybe I am drunk.I blink back dark dots that cloud my vision and try to remember how I got here, where I am, and what is going on. I look around, squinting, but every face is a blur, every item faded and inconsistent like I’ve been pumped full of hallucinogens.It sounds like it’s raining outside.I whip my head around, searching for a window, but I can’t see any.“Come on, Bella!” Someone shouts over the music, and suddenly I’m being dragged by my arm towards what I can make out to be a stage. I try to pull away, but my body keeps moving. Around me people cheer, clap, and holler, adding to my disorientation.The music slows and the next second I’m on the stage, holding on to a bouquet of tulips like it’s a lifeline. I squint when the spotlight sh
I gasp awake, jolting upright in bed.“About time, sleepy head. Come on, we’re gonna be late for the bus.” Bibah pauses, swiveling around from the mirror to face me, bobby pin poised midway to her wrapped scarf. “You good?” She asks, registering my wild stare and heavy breathing. “Were you chased by a clown holding a red balloon in your sleep?”“No, just fell off a roof.” I reply, then clear my throat because I sound dead. There is a faint pounding in my head. “What time is it?” I ask, flinging the heavy blanket I don’t remember snuggling under, away from me.“Late enough for you to get your ass out of bed.” Bibah replies, turning back to the mirror and properly pinning her hijab. She’s already dressed; clad in a black maxi skirt, a matching hijab, and a dark brown blazer jacket that looks like it was lifted off a rich English professor’s wardrobe. It’s a new look on her but it works, making her appear very dark academic. She glances at me through the mirror. “I know I look good. We l
As we walk into the dimly lit gallery of the museum, I am immediately struck by the grandeur of the space. A massive, ancient statue dominated the center of the room, surrounded by smaller pieces of art, artifacts, and relics from various ancient civilizations and moments in history.Bibah wanders off to a large mural on the far end and I make my way towards the towering statue, marveling at the intricate details and the skill of the artisans who had crafted it so many centuries ago. If I’m not wrong, the statue is that of Themis; greek goddess of justice and wisdom, judging from the scales she’s holding up, the sword in her other hand, and the blindfold. But what’s special about this statue is the little cherub perched oh her shoulder, wings extended, donning a blunt arrow and a curved bow, also blindfolded. I think of cupid. I think of the irony of how both justice and love are depicted blind.As I draw closer, I notice a group of my classmates gathered around, listening to a museum
“Is there a reason you’re touching my mate, Truman?”William snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him and resting his chin in the crook of my neck. I can hear him drawing in slow, steady breaths over the erratic beat of my heart.Ben takes a step back, his gaze flickering from Ravenstone to me then back to Ravenstone again. “I was just apologizing.” He explains.A humorless, cold laugh comes from Ravenstone. “I believe apologies are verbal, are they not?” His arms tighten around my torso, not so much that it hurt, but enough for me to feel the tension in his whole body. “So, that doesn’t really answer my question, Benjamin.” He snarls.I’ve never heard or seen him this pissed before.Ben clenches his fists, jaws tightening. A red tinge has found its way to his cheeks, and his nostrils are flared. “Listen Ravenstone—““Walk away, Ben.” I cut in, trying to prevent this from escalating into a disaster, because I can literally feel William’s anger radiating off him. Ben’s
“Are you sure we don’t need to call the doctor?” Mr. Ortega asks with concern, glancing at William and I through the rearview mirror before pulling his attention back to the road and slowing to a halt at a red light.Akio shakes his head. “I assure you there’s no need for that, Mr. Ortega. It’s just a mild fainting episode.” He lies, a small nervous laughter following. “I keep telling Ravenstone to take it easy on the workouts, but…” He trails off, shrugging.Mr. Ortega looks at us again through the rear view mirror like he isn’t quite satisfied with Akio’s assurance.“His workouts are really extreme.” I chirp in, interlacing my hands with William’s, and looking away from Mr. Ortega’s curious stare. Usually, I find it easy to lie, but this is a little different because Ravenstone’s secret is on the line. “But I’ll make certain he takes it easy from now on.”Mr. Ortega sighs, and turns a corner. “Well, if you both insist he’s okay.”Akio shoots me a grateful look through the side mirro
It’s been over a minutes since Akio has left, but William and I haven’t exchanged a word. He’s in bed with a pillow propped up behind him, staring at anything and everything that isn’t me. I cross and uncross my leg on the couch, sigh, and get to my feet, sick of the silence.“You have narcolepsy.” I say it as a factual statement, walking over to the other side of the bed and carefully placing my purse on it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”He runs a hand through his hair, then down his face and sighs. “I didn’t want your pity.” He mutters, still avoiding my gaze. “I didn’t— don’t want you to see me this way.”“I don’t pity you.” I say, and when he finally looks at me, I hold his gaze cause I know if I look away he’ll know I’m lying. Maybe a little part of me did pity him. But I can’t help it. “Is that what the pills were for? Is that why you push me away?”He sinks into the bed as if my questions are heavy weights placed on his shoulders. “My life is complicated, Isabella. I’m complicated.
I blink awake.The room is quiet, dark. William’s arms are wrapped around me, his head buried in the crook of my neck. My cheek is squished against his bare, warm chest. I feel around underneath the sheets for my phone and check the time when I find it.It reads 1:13 am.When did we even get back? How long have I been asleep? My mind is groggy. I check my notifications and find a missed call from Bibah, a missed call from my mom, and texts from Bibah. I shoot her a brief reply that I’m okay, just been asleep.William’s arms tighten around me. He hums something in his sleep and snuggles closer.Well this is nice.This is very nice.But is it just me or is the room literally freezing? I squint in the dim light, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, searching for the heater that’s supposed to be working. It’s familiar hum is absent. Did William turn it off last night when I wasn’t here, or maybe we hadn’t even turned it on in the first place?I begin to untangle myself from William.He murm
It’s surreal; packing my suitcase and saying goodbye to the hotel room that now feels like a second home to me for some weird reason. I stare at the view from the window for one last time. It’s a bright morning, but the sun is yet to take complete dominion of the clear sky, so the weather still retains the chill of the night before. I touch a palm to the glass; it’s cold, and a faint outline of my reflection does the same. I step back and pull the curtains close. “The bus leaves in three.” William reminds me, checking his wristwatch before glancing up at me with a faint, awkward smile. He looks the same as I’d seen him on that rooftop, save for the new choppy haircut and the black hoodie he’s currently wearing, but so much has changed. Before, it felt as if a million walls separated us, but now? Maybe a hundred walls. He’s still a book in a language I can’t read, but at least now the pages are open and I’m learning the alphabets. I smile back. None of us have acknowledged last night