“Press down on it!” Sophie was shrieking. “Press down on the wound! You can’t let him bleed out! You can’t!”
I looked at her. “He’s a DOG, Soph.”
“A STUFFED dog.”
“Then where’d the blood come from?”
“My hand. You bit it, remember?”
It was a pressing sort of question, and I had no idea how to answer it. My mind had gone blank; any thoughts left behind were running laps around my head.
Jamie, seeing me pause, kicked me under the table. I yelped with surprise and pain, and Anni looked at us suspiciously. She asked again.
‘How did they die?’
I was thirsty. So goddamned thirsty. For water, obviously. You couldn’t walk through a desert for 5 miles without getting a little thirsty. But I was also thirsty for James. For the taste of his lips on mine. I’d never thought I’d ever actually feel that way about someone, back when I was sixteen. I’d always been sort of convinced that there would…[Read more]
‘I think that’s the worst part, though,’ she said finally, when the hiccups had subsided. ‘The fact that they all pity me, you know?’
Damien and I exchanged looks. We DIDN’T know; that was the problem. And she’d never tell us anyway. She loved mysteries too much to reveal herself that easily.