We stop at a light about halfway home so I use the break to do my best to urge her to sit the right way in her seat. Tugging on her belt isn’t enough, and she’s too out of it to understand what I’m doing, something that becomes more obvious when she wraps her hands around my arm and brings it in for a hug like a scared child with a teddy bear.
“I have to drive,” I explain, working my arm loose. She clings to it, but eventually I get it free, just in time for the light to turn green.
I pull forward slowly, entering the intersection while scanning both ways over and over again to make sure nobody is coming at us.
“Elle, I need you to get in your seat the right way. Please?” I beg and use calling her Elle as a tool. I feel dirty that I did, but I need to soften her obstinacy. It works and her hard-lined mouth opens into a slight smile as she shifts and tugs at her seat belt until it’s close to crossing her body in the right place.
“Thank you,” I breathe out.
“You didn’t wear a hat tonight,” she stammers, reaching her left arm toward me and landing her open palm on the side of my head. Her fingers twist into my messy hair and I reach up and tether her hand in mine so I can drive safely.
“Someone stole it.” If Mandy shows up on Monday wearing my hat I’m going to take it back.
“You shouldn’t wear one anyway. You have really nice hair,” she hums. Her fingers are trying to break out from my hand as I keep us clasped over the center console. I can’t believe I’m in a position where I am literally fighting to keep Eleanor from playing with my hair.
“Thanks,” I say, blushing with a sideways grin. Shitty situation or not, I’m still an absolute sucker for her compliment.
We manage to cross the highway without seeing much traffic, and by the time I pull her car along the curb outside her house, her head is nodding toward her shoulder as she fights off sleep.
“Hold on a few more seconds. Let’s get you inside, okay?”
“Uh hmm,” she says, a faint whisper.
I don’t know where to take her—her house or mine—to sleep off whatever this is. I’m almost positive one of those assholes slipped something into her drink, especially if Gemma was with her almost every second.
“Think you can get inside?” I let go of her hand and turn to face her as I kill the motor in her car. I keep her keys hidden in my palm and I plan to keep them all night. She doesn’t need to get any big ideas about driving herself somewhere.
“I think so. Morgan’s up. She’s . . . always . . . up.” She starts to crawl out of her car after her sing-songy answer, so I race around to greet her before she can attempt to walk.
“Do you have a house key?”
“Oh . . . yeah.” Eleanor pushes my hands away and feels around her hips. It’s as if she just realized my shirt is tied around her and she pulls on the sleeves and begins to giggle.
“Hey, I like this one. Is it mine? Where are my pants? Ohhh.” Her brow furrows.
“Was your house key in your pants?” I ask. She’s already stumbling her way toward her front door.
“Maybe,” she slurs.
I catch under her arms before she completely crosses up her legs, and her prophecy turns out to be right as Morgan opens the door and takes two steps onto the stoop. I expect her to come running, worried, to join me in taking care of her spiraling sister. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest.
“Shocker. You went to a party.” Her eyes land on her sister with such disdain, even if I didn’t care so much for Eleanor I would insist on defending her against that kind of judgment.
“You think you can help me get her inside? Maybe you can have your piece in the morning when she’ll actually be able to ascertain the words you are saying?” I think I’m bolder than normal because of the pent-up aggression I’m still working out from the jerks at the party.
“I told her not to go. You should know better, too.” I can actually feel Morgan’s scowl as she steps under Eleanor’s other shoulder to help me guide her inside.
“You make some pretty shitty assumptions, you know that?” I grunt out as we move through the foyer and toward the stairs.
“Let’s just get her to the couch,” Morgan says, ignoring me completely. I know that’s not where Eleanor wants to be, though. She’ll only wake up worse, and she’ll never fall asleep completely with her sister only a few feet away.
“I got her,” I insist, sweeping my arms under Eleanor’s legs and carrying her up the steps, leaving her sister trailing me. She doesn’t come all the way up, and I’m glad because I’m in no mood to be considerate of her feelings.
“Thank you,” Eleanor mumbles against my shoulder.
“Don’t mention it,” I huff.
I weave my way around the railing and down the hallway that matches mine, knowing exactly where to take her. I’ve only seen this room through a window, and from a distance of a few hundred feet.
It’s dark inside, so it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust enough to find her bed. She reaches out as we get closer and I let her take herself the rest of the way. She flips on the small lamp by her bed, a pink one made of lace and crystal that looks as though it belongs in a little girl’s room. I bet Addy loves this light.
She begins
