After experiencing a life-altering tragedy, Emersyn feels as if her world has collapsed. Attempting to accept her new reality, Emersyn wonders how she can possibly keep going when it feels like her life ended months ago. Until she meets Haven, and s...
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
I video call Haven once I have climbed into bed, crossing my fingers in hopes that she will pick up.
Mom and I had stayed out in the city longer than I thought we would, as it had taken quite some time to pick out the "perfect" outfit for the dance tomorrow evening. Haven had asked to call earlier, and now it is much later than the time we agreed upon. However, finding the ensemble left me overly excited for the event. I can hardly stand to wait until tomorrow to talk to her.
As if my thoughts have conjured her presence, I am suddenly jarred from my thoughts as the sound of the call connecting pings from my phone. I sit up in bed eagerly as my screen loads an image of Haven, butterflies erupting in my stomach and nerves coursing through my veins. I am soon met with her familiar face, although my elation quickly fades as I study her on my screen.
I blink to make sure I am not merely seeing things as I take in Haven's features. Her skin is pale–a sickly pale, one that is more evident than usual. Her irises are dim, though dark purple bags are oddly evident beneath her eyes. I have convinced myself that her strange appearance must simply be due to a lack of lighting and exhaustion, as it is late and the camera can hardly pick up on all of her intricate details. However, I am left disgruntled when Haven speaks, the hoarseness of her voice only bringing back my concern with a force.
"Hey," Haven murmurs after accepting my call. Her voice is garbled as if she is talking over shards of glass wedged in her throat. "What's up?"
I tilt my head to the side as I eye her curiously. "Haven . . . are you okay?"
Haven narrows her puffy eyes as her eyebrows furrow. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
My own eyebrows meet in confusion. "It's just . . . you sound a little ill."
Haven dismisses my concern as if it is unwarranted. "It's nothing. I've been a little nauseous today is all. I think I got some sort of stomach bug, or something. I don't know. I'm sure it will pass."
Silently, I swallow down worry. I'd hate for Haven to have to miss homecoming because she's feeling under the weather–especially knowing how excited she's been for this dance, as it's hardly all she has talked about all week.
"If you don't feel any better tomorrow, I don't mind missing the dance," I tell her gently. "I totally understand. I can come over and we can watch movies in bed. I'll bring snacks, and–"
Haven shakes her head, though the faintest of smiles adorns her lips. "You're sweet. But seriously, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. Anyway, what have you been up to today? You said you went out with your mom when we texted?"
The topic of going shopping with my mother instantly has me lighting up. I'm grinning before I know it, hardly able to resist blurting to Haven what I ended up buying for the dance.
"We went looking for homecoming outfits," I share enthusiastically. "And I found something that I think is just so me. I'm actually really excited. I can't wait for you to see."
