I breathed out a small sigh of relief as I realized that wasn’t something I could even fathom handling right now. In a matter of hours, I’d been reduced to someone who could barely handle the idea of being left alone with all of these questions and no answers.
“Did you take the pill the doctor gave you to help you sleep?” Kristy asked, her eyes fixed on the reality TV show playing.
“Not yet. Should I?”
“I think you should. It will stop your mind from racing and thinking all these crazy thoughts.”
“They’re not crazy thoughts,” I said, wanting to argue with her, but then stopped myself. Grabbing my phone, I glanced at it again. Still nothing.
So I typed out another text to him:
Cammie: I really hope you’re okay. Please be okay.
“If you don’t take it, I will,” she teased.
“Oh, as if you need anything to help you sleep. You’re the most sound sleeper I’ve ever met in my life.”
She smiled as if sleeping through everything was a superpower. “Isn’t it awesome?”
“Not when I’m trying to wake you up,” I said, remembering all the times that Kristy simply refused to awaken from her Sleeping Beauty slumber when we were teens. I used to wonder how her alarm clock radio seemed to do the trick during the school week, but nothing else worked any other time. She claimed that her brain knew when she had to wake up and when she didn’t, but I think she was full of it.
“I’ll go get you some water so you can take the pill. It will help.” She pushed up from the bed.
“And you’ll make those calls?” I asked, wondering why she wasn’t already pounding away on her laptop.
“I will once you’re asleep. If I start doing it now, you’ll stay awake pestering me,” she yelled from the kitchen, where I heard her rummaging through the fridge.
She was right. And since I felt completely helpless, I decided that taking the sleeping pill was the best thing I could do to slow my brain down and attempt to give it some rest.
As Kristy set a glass of water next to me, I swallowed the pill and hoped for a night filled with only pleasant dreams, if any.
• • •
When I woke up the next morning, I blinked my eyes once.
Twice.
Kristy was in bed next to me. Why was she here?
Three times.
Dalton.
Four.
Reaching for my cell phone on my nightstand, I snatched it up as if my very life depended on it. Swiping the screen turned it on, but revealed nothing. No missed calls. No new text messages. No news from Dalton.
My heart sank as all the fears and questions from yesterday came rushing back with another blink. I focused on calming my breathing, shaking my head back and forth as if I could shake all the negative emotions out, when I noticed Kristy watching me.
“Morning,” she said with a small smile. “How’d you sleep?”
“Better than I should have,” I said while trying to fight back everything screaming to burst out of me.
“Anything from Dalton?” She glanced at the phone that was still clutched tightly in my hand.
I shook my head. “Nothing. What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I called around last night and I looked online, but I couldn’t find anything,” she said. “There has to be an explanation, Cammie.”
“Yeah. You just don’t want to say it out loud.”
“He’s not fucking dead,” she said tersely. “So stop jumping to the worst-case scenario.”
“Why are you yelling at me?”
“Because, damn it. I refuse to believe that this kind of thing could happen to you again. I won’t accept it. I won’t.” Kristy’s eyes glistened with tears, telling me she was fighting her own fears and doubts. “So there’s some kind of explanation about where he is and where he’s been. Okay?” She swiped at her eyes, her expression pleading with me to be strong.
“I really wish I could believe that.” I sank back into the covers and called Dalton’s phone. Straight to voice mail again.
“Well, start believing,” she insisted.
“I want to. I really do. I hate sitting here doing nothing,” I said with a groan. “Not knowing is what’s truly driving me insane.”
She rolled her eyes at me and huffed. “I’m aware of exactly what’s driving you insane.”
“Then tell me you’ve thought of something that we could do? I can’t spend another day not knowing where he is. This is ridiculous,” I whined.
“Call his cell again,” she demanded.
“Already did. Straight to voice mail.”
“Where the fuck is he?” she shouted at the ceiling in frustration, and I started to laugh. Kristy narrowed her glare at me. “What the hell are you laughing at?”
“It’s just that I’m the one who should be angry, not you,” I said, still smiling.
“Do you want to get out of here? Go see a movie or something?” She moved to sit up in bed. “Something to distract us from all of this?”
Her suggestion made my stomach turn. The idea of not being home didn’t interest me. Even though I knew that no one would come knocking on my door to tell me what had happened to Dalton, I didn’t want to rule out the possibility completely. If someone came while I was gone, I’d never forgive myself.
I let out a sigh. “Movies sound great. But let’s do a rental, so we don’t have to actually leave the house.”