How do I deal with that? Standing, I make my way into the kitchen to make myself a mixed drink. I flip on the light but pause immediately. Resting on the counter is a red rose, with the thorns clipped. For the life of me, I can't figure out why tears spring to my eyes. Maybe because now that I care about the stupid asshole, I don't know if this is the last time I'll get a rose or not. Sniffing, I walk over to the rose and pick it up, twirling the stem in my fingers. "Goddammit, Zade," I mutter aloud. "I'll never forgive you if you die." A loud buzzing from my phone wakes me out of a dead sleep. Drool leaks down my cheek, and I absently swipe at it with one hand while I grab my phone with the other. The bright light draws out an immediate headache as I squint at the screen. It’s only eleven o’clock at night. I couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour. My phone buzzes again, alerting me to a text message. Opening the app, I see the Daya has texted me several times. DAYA: Are you awake? DAYA: [’m really upset right now and could use a friend. DAYA: Will you come over? DAYA: Id really appreciate it. I frown, both confused and worried. We haven’t spoken since we parted ways earlier, after the police collected all of our evidence. She had to go to her niece’s birthday party, and I haven’t spoken with her since.