Page 58 of Back To You

I shake my head. “The hockey team got together with our coaches for dinner that night, and then we all decided to go to one of our teammates' house because his parents were gone for the weekend. Grant was always able to get alcohol at a gas station by the high school because he never got ID’d.”

I wrack my brain for any other memory of that night. “I remember taking shots—a lot of them. We did one for every guy on the team who wasn’t pursuing hockey in college.” I shiver at the thought of how much alcohol was consumed, seeing as though only two guys on the team were sticking with hockey in college.

“So what? A handful of shots in a few hours?” Emmett questions.

“More like eighteen shots in less than two.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as Emmett shakes his head. “No wonder you don’t remember shit,” Emmett scolds. “You’re lucky you didn’t need your stomach pumped.”

While I completely agree, I don’t want to dwell on how I was 18 and stupid with no knowledge of alcohol limits. “It’s safe to say I blacked out.”

“I’m assuming you don’t remember anything after taking the last couple of shots?” Eddie prompts.

“Barely,” I answer, wracking my brain for any memory from that night, a night I never thought twice about until now.

“Are you sure you didn’t say anything or do anything that could’ve hurt Annie’s feelings? We know you wouldn’t hurt her, but that’s a lot of alcohol and you were young.”

I shake my head, my hair whipping my cheeks. “It was just the guys from the team. They barely knew Annie, just knew her as my girlfriend and a friend of their girlfriends.”

“Was she friends with any of their girlfriends?” Emmett asks, all of us invested in getting to the bottom of this.

“Yeah, but—” My body freezes, and I feel like I want to vomit. It’s as if my body is having memories that my brain can’t quite conjure up. My skin feels tight and hot, like I’m coming down with a fever, and everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. I feel like I’m trying to move through water, but I can’t get my arms or legs to move fast enough.

“What is it?” I hear Eddie ask, but I close my eyes. The memory is there, but I can’t make it out.

What happened to me that night?

Chapter 23

Annie

Good thing Drew and Mia didn’t pursue theater—neither of them can act for shit.

We walk through the front doors of the grocery store, and both are trying to act like my reaction to forgetting the powdered sugar for the brownies was completely normal. Like I didn’t just almost burst into tears in front of all of them because of it.

They didn’t say anything to me on the ten-minute car ride here, Mia driving with me up front and Drew in the back seat. They didn’t try to console me or ask what was wrong; we all just listened to the music Mia played.

Now, they’re pretending not to watch me out of the corner of their eyes as I lead us to the baking aisle.

“So,” I start as we walk to the shelves with the different types of sugar, “you’re not going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” Drew asks, trying—and failing—to act like she isn’t wondering what’s wrong.

I roll my eyes andfeel Mia’s hip lightly bump mine.

“There she is,” Mia says. “I don’t know where she went, but the Annie I knew wasnotthe one that walked into my apartment tonight.”

I shake my head and hold back a smile. “Luke told me he ran into someone from our high school yesterday,” Iexplain, reaching out to grab a bag of powdered sugar, hugging it against my chest. “It put me in a funk.”

“Any particular reason why?” Drew asks, and I don’t ignore that the three of us are about to have this conversation—one I’ve never had with anyone—in a goddamn grocery store.

The aisle we’re in is currently empty, so I exhale before continuing. “I had a hard time in high school.” I don’t know why I don’t call it what it was, say the word aloud—bullied. I was bullied in high school, but I can’t get myself to say it. “One of the guys he ran into was dating a girl who used to be my fri—” I can’t even get the word out because I hear a voice behind me that makes my blood run cold.

“Vivian Mitchell?”

I don’t turn around.

It’s like deciding to open up about this conjured her into existence—a sick joke if you ask me. This is what I get for trudging all this up and bringing it into the open.

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