Chapter 20: Lost Time

Where the hell am I?

My eyes flash open and I'm about to scream when I realize it wasn't real. It was a full-on nightmare. I was standing on a banister with my neck in a noose. I was about to jump. I was dreaming. Dreaming. But it felt so real I think I might throw up.

A beam of sunlight blinds me, making it impossible to see anything.

No, no, no!

My eyes dart around the room. I touch my watch, scooting over the second I see a dark spot, still groggy from sleep. I catch a glimpse of the time, but I must be reading it wrong. I probably need another second for my eyes to adjust. Checking it again, the air is sucked out of my body.

Holy shit.

There is no way it's 3:23 in the afternoon. A split second later, my stomach plunges in a downward spiral of nausea.

What.

Is.

Going.

On?

I jump up, pulling my body off the floor, but have to catch my balance from the instant head rush. I can't give it a second thought as panic overrides everything. How can this have happened again?

Without thinking, I bolt through the window like I'm being chased by a pack of rabid wolves, pounding the pavement fast and furious to get as far away from that crazy house as I can. Once again, hours have escaped me and I have no memory of falling asleep. The only thing I remember is the intense need to get back to that house. I've somehow missed an entire day of school and classes and shit, even a geography quiz.

But wait. I stop when I come to a corner a few streets down. Was he real or was he just in my dream?

"Atticus." I say his name out loud and a surge of warmth, almost like arms, wraps around my body. I close my eyes because it feels good, like that euphoric sensation I get when I'm in the house. I know it's wrong somehow but it doesn't matter. It feels so good I don't want to question it.

"Candice?" a voice calls my name.

Startled, I open my eyes and see Brad walking toward me with a puzzled look on his face.

Shit, shit, shit!

Something in the pit of my stomach tells me to run but I breathe in, waiting for it to pass. I don't want him to think I'm completely crazy.

"Hey," I say, too freaked out to form any other words.

"I came by to pick you up this morning but no one answered the door. Are you sick?"

The genuine worry blanketing his face cuts at my heart so I turn away, trying to think of something better than the truth. Anything other than admitting I fell asleep in that amazing, scary, wonderful boarded up old house.

"I uh...yeah, wasn't feeling well," I lie.

He scans me up and down and suddenly I realize I don't have on any makeup and I don't recall what I'm wearing, but I'm sure I look ridiculous. Never the way I want him to see me, but it might work to my advantage. And right now, I just want to get home before I have a panic attack.

"Oh, okay," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I think we're both uncomfortable, but clearly for very different reasons. When his eyes scan me one last time I'm pretty sure he really does think I look like a crazy person and God help me, I'm also not wearing a bra.

Perfect. Go ahead and run, Brad. Here's your chance.

He cocks his head, squinting his eyes with a look of confusion and says, "Why aren't you home?"

And there it is. The question I was hoping to avoid. The one I don't have a good answer to. Well, nothing he'd understand, anyway, because telling him the truth isn't even an option. So I lie again, but not entirely.

"I needed some fresh air."

Brad looks away, as if contemplating what to do next and says, "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

Thank God his interrogation is over, but I feel like shit for lying to him.

"My car's just over there." He points to the gas station across the street.

"No, it's okay. I can walk," I answer, folding my arms to keep my boobs from bouncing around.

"C'mon, Candice. Just let me take you home." He flashes me a crooked smile and of course, I'm a goner. Again.

It's awkward as hell as we walk side by side in total silence but once I get over the shock of seeing him, it feels good to have him close. I'm breaking my own rules around him left and right, and I'm starting not to care.

"Hey, Brad!" a female voice calls out from behind us.

We turn around at the same time, like someone just caught us stealing a six-pack. I'm completely mortified for anyone to see me like this but clearly, that ship has sailed.

"Oh, hey, Sarah," Brad says back, grabbing my hand as he picks up the pace.

I recognize her. She's the same girl I saw in the hall who gave me the dirty look when I was walking with Brad. And here I am again, walking with him.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" she asks, quickly catching up to us.

Brad stops and lets out a deep breath, then turns to me, placing his hand on my lower back. "Sarah, this is Candice. Candice, this is Sarah."

It's clear that his introduction was meant to be quick, as he hurries to open my car door.

"Well, doesn't she have a last name?" Sarah asks in a sing-song voice. Sarcasm must be her specialty because her tone is drenched in it.

"Stop it, Sarah," Brad spits back.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see he's not enjoying this conversation.

She moves closer, leaning into his chest while her long, red nails slowly glide down, just touching the top button of his jeans. Brad grabs her wrist with lightning speed, pulling it away.