I lifted my right arm to drape it across my face. With the first muscle twitch, my foot screamed in pain. I winced and gingerly turned from my back onto my left side. As I settled back down into my white marshmallow comforter, I exhaled and buried my face into the pillow. Just as I started to drift off again, my eyes snapped open. Last night. Brooke’s party. The fight. Troy. Alex. The necklace. I sat up in bed as though an electrical paddle was attached to my chest. Except I wasn’t suffering from a heart attack. My hand flew up to my throat, panicked. Nothing. Nothing from my neck down to my collarbone down to the elastic edging of the black tube top I was still wearing from last night. I jerked my comforter off my body and swung my legs down onto the carpet. I tried to stand up, but white-hot pain threw me back down on my bed.
