I imagined myself drowning where I stood; drowning in a sea of numbness as the pain slowly trickled away. The nothingness was different than what I’d used to strive for, because I wasn’t alone, not really. I could still feel Paige’s hands pressed against mine, a subtle reminder.
And then I noticed they weren’t just pressed against mine. They were trembling.
I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was shivering; her eyes closed and lips blue.
“Paige,” I gasped.
She opened her eyes, concerned, “What?”
“Get inside, you’ll get sick.” I was starting to feel panicky again.
She laughed sardonically and dropped her hands muttering, “I’m already sick.”
I didn’t stop to contemplate what she meant by that. I rushed her back inside and grabbed a towel (I’d been to her house so much by now I knew where everything was), handing it to her. “Go dry off and get changed,” I ordered her. She looked like a small child, all wet and defenseless.
She eyed my own, sopping figure for a moment, “What about you?”