My legs were unsteady as I walked out of the bathroom, fingers pulling the sleeves of my top down to my palms to cover my rotting skin. Even through the fabric, my nails were digging into the insides of my hands.

The warmth of the little cafe that I'd found inviting at first had become suffocating.

Jake was with Adrian, waiting with concern etched across his face. It looked sweet. Sincere.

I wanted to turn and run the other way. But I kept walking toward them, trying my best to smile. "I'm okay," I said. "Just not feeling too well. I think I'll go home."

Adrian stood, both our drinks in his hands. "I'll walk you there."

"I'll come too," Jake said, his voice a bit harder than it was before I left.

Adrian's eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure? You just got here."

Jake smiled at him. "I've got my coffee. I'm all good to go, man."

This day was getting better with every goddamned passing second.

The three of us made our way out the shop and toward my place, an odd, tense trio. The tension might've all been in my head, seeing as Jake and Adrian both seemed to friendly. Their conversation was stale, but they were talking.

From the outside, this would've looked normal - three teenagers on the streets after school hours. People would think the laughing boys and the girl with the occasional, tentative smile were friends.

An arm wrapped around me, pulling me out of my own head. "You okay?"

I wanted to jerk away. But I never minded this sort of affection - a peck on the cheek, a hug, his hand in mine, or an arm draped over my shoulders. If I pushed him away right now, he might realize that I remembered. That I knew.

So I smiled and leaned further into him, pretending that his touch didn't make me want to bathe in a tub full of bleach. "I'll be fine."

"Drink your coffee. You're freezing."

"It's hot chocolate."

The roads were a little more packed than they'd been earlier. Cars were cruising down the streets and kids our age were strolling down the sidewalks. It was all terribly normal.

"Whatever. Same thing."

"Take that back before I dump you."

"You can't dump me. I'm adorable."

I forced a laugh through my teeth.

Adrian moved closer, broke us apart, and handed me my drink. "If you thought I was carrying this for the whole way, you were mistaken."

I took a sip, trying not to sound too relieved with his interference. "Would it have killed you?"

"No, but it would hurt my fragile hands."

I didn't have to fake the laugh this time.

It didn't take too long for us to get to my neighborhood, but it certainly felt like it. Time always seemed to pass slowest when one wanted it to go faster.

Time, I told myself, was a bitch.

Adrian grabbed my arm out of nowhere, forcing me to stop, and pointed at Jake who had stopped a house back. It belonged to an older couple, the Rhode's.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Jake turned to look at us. "Get her home."

I pulled myself out Adrian's grasp. "Aren't you coming?"

"It looks like somebody broke in there. I'll make sure nobody got hurt and then I'll be over."

Oh, Jake. Ever the noble killer.

Adrian snorted. "You want to go in?"

"Someone could be hurt!"

"You could get hurt," I snapped. "We wait here and call the cops. Not go in there half-cocked on hero complexes."

Jake ignored me and strode up the driveway and in through the front door.

Adrian and I stood there.

"We could just let him die in there," he mused. "He did kill you, after all."

"If we don't end up finding a way out of this, I'll be screwed because he'll already be dead."

"So, you weren't trying to talk him out of it because you're a good person?"

"No, just making sure I don't turn into a zombie."

"Reasonable enough." He started off toward the house with me trailing behind him.

The door was wide open, glass scattered on the ground.

Jake, it seemed, hadn't made it very far. He was only a couple feet in, hands at his sides, standing very still.

"Jake?"

Something was off - my body knew it before my mind did. My palms started to sweat, my heart was beating harder.

"Jake?" I said again, and this time my voice wasn't quite as strong.

"Neith, stay out there. Don't look at this."

I stepped in anyway and he turned at the sound, hurrying to push me back out. And he did. But not before I saw it.

Not before I caught a glimpse of the severed heads on the ground.

⁂

The blanket around me was almost as warm as the hot chocolate I'd dropped on the Rhode's porch. It wasn't comfortable at all, but at least I wasn't going to freeze. Neither would my two companions, both of them donning blankets identical to mine.

The three of us were sitting in an ambulance with our legs hanging off the edge. It was parked outside the crime scene and the only vehicle without its sirens on. Not that it mate much of a difference - I could barely hear anything as it was. Everything sounded light years away - the chatter of the police, the sirens from the patrol cars, and even, especially, The poor man trying to get answers out of us.

"Miss Johnson?"

I blinked up at the Sheriff. "Can I go home?"

That the only thing I'd said to him since he'd arrived. I knew he'd asked us questions, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember a single one. It was all a haze. Focusing felt impossible.

"I'll have someone take you there."

"I live four houses down. I don't need an escort."

"I'll take her," Jake said, sounding rather lifeless. "And then I'll call my mom to pick me up."

Adrian looked at me.

"Yeah," I said, knowing what he wanted to ask. "That's fine."

Sheriff Moore turned his attention onto Adrian. "Do you live close?"

"I-I live in the town over."

"I'll have someone drive you. I'll stop by tomorrow to ask some questions though. That okay, son?"

"Y-yeah."

Sheriff Moore had an officer take him away, made sure we were both okay and promised to check in on us later that night before he let us go.

It was jarring, to know what I knew about Jake, and somehow still feel a twinge of sympathy for him whenever I looked at him. Somehow, through the numbness, the expression on his face got to me.

Jake cleared his throat once we were on the porch. "I really didn't want you to have to see that."

My hands shook for a moment as I tried to get the key into the lock so I could get inside. "I-I know. I wish I'd listened."

Jake caught my hand in his and took the key, unlocking the door for me. "Get inside. Call your grandmother. Don't open the door for anyone, understand?"

Just like earlier, the concern, the worry, it sounded so genuine that I wanted nothing more than to believe it. "You should stay here. Inside, I mean. Until your mom comes. Don't go back there."

He pressed his lips together for a second. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been distant. I don't want to come in if it'll make you uncomfortable."

So he'd noticed something was off. Maybe that should have unsettled me, but recent events made it impossible not to care for his well-being, whether it be selfish or selfless. At the moment, it didn't matter what the reason was, just that I cared.

"There's a killer out there. I don't think you should wander around. Even if the cops are around."

"I could stay with the Sheriff."

"Don't be dumb. Being near that place will feel make you feel worse than you do now."

"Okay. I'll stay."

I locked the door once he was inside. "Do you feel okay? I mean, considering?"

Something about that seemed to amuse him. "My head's still on, isn't it?"

The way things were going, I couldn't promise him it would stay on for long.