Change My Game (North Haven University #2) - Kelsey Clayton Page 0,1

any different?

Spoiler alert: they were wrong. The two of us drifted apart slowly, while still clinging to every ounce of the friendship we've found salvation in for years. But how can you stay so close when you're both in your own downward spiral?

Memories of the tragic event that changed my life and everything since start running through my head and before I know it, my breathing becomes heavy and my chest starts to tighten. The pain is just too real, too crippling. It haunts me constantly—robbing me of the ability to think rationally.

I scramble over to my nightstand and rip open the drawer. Under everything, hidden in the cut-out pages of a baby book, I find my baggie of white powder and bottle of pills. I don’t even know the names of all of them. All I know is how they make me feel. How they take away the pain. How they make it a little easier to breathe, and sometimes, even take away the nightmares.

Grabbing a half-empty bottle of water off the floor, I use it to swallow down a few. My head leans back against my bed, dripping sweat like I just ran a marathon. The only thing I can do is wait for them to kick in.

And as my breathing starts to calm and everything begins to tingle, I don't even bother to move from the floor to my bed. I fall asleep right where I am, embracing the few moments where I don't feel like I'm drowning.

LISTENING TO A PROFESSOR drone on about some topic I don't give two shits about has to be a close second to walking in circles for pointless activity. I mean, in all actuality, how is knowing who painted the Sistine Chapel supposed to help me at all? It won't, plain and simple.

Class finally lets out, and I all but run toward the door. My skin itches, and I can feel the darkness creeping in, like it's wrapping its dirty little claws around my heart and threatening to squeeze if I don't do something to calm it down.

With Carter always being down my damn throat lately, I've had to keep from carrying anything with me. He cares, I get it—but it makes times like this really difficult. Thankfully, that was my last class.

Being on the other side of a rather large campus, I was too lazy to walk this morning and decided to drive. However, as I approach my car and find my dad parked behind me, I start to wish I had chosen differently.

My fucking luck.

He rolls down his window and leans over to the passenger side. “Get in.”

“I would, but I've got a lot of studying to do.”

The passenger door opens as he presses a button. “I just want to go for a ride. It won't take long.”

Being as my only options consist of going with him or driving my Mercedes over a sidewalk to get out of the parking spot, I groan quietly and get in his car. Students stare as we drive away, but it's nothing I'm not used to. Being one of the wealthiest people in this town isn't new to me, and for some reason, that always seems to fascinate people.

“Your grades for last term came in,” he says flatly.

Great. “I know.”

“You only passed by the skin of your teeth. You do realize that, don't you?”

“Yep.” I pop the p with more sarcasm than I probably should, but I can't find it in me to care right now.

He drives through downtown, and all the places I've been avoiding stare back at me. It's all things that remind me of my life before everything went to shit. And no one wants to remember when things were better, because they're not now. They're different. I'm different.

“Your mother is afraid you're going to kill yourself,” he tells me with a grave tone.

A small voice in my subconscious whispers that she should be, but I swallow it down. “Why?”

“Because of your behavior lately. You were expelled from Florida State. You're damn near failing classes at NHU. You're not talking to anyone. And God forbid you come home every once in a while.”

I cross my arms and turn my glance to the window. “I'm fine.”

“Maybe so, but she's worried, and frankly, so am I.” He turns into a parking lot and the sign in front of me reads North Haven Behavioral. “You have an appointment here tomorrow at 3:00 p.m.”

“A fucking shrink?” I growl. “You're sending me to a fucking