By the time I’m done, I’ve managed to calm my nerves, the trembling in my legs have stopped, and I’m articulate enough to understand. I can look my best friend in the eye without raising her suspicions about what Wyatt and I did a mere fifteen feet away from her while she was sleeping. I spend a solid ten minutes trying to coax her out of bed, and Heidi doesn’t take the disturbance well. Eventually, I look up a Lady Gaga song on my phone. Fifteen seconds into “LoveGame,” Heidi jolts up with bloodshot eyes and her hair flying everywhere. “That’s so fucked-up, Ky.” “We’re leaving.” She fumbles under her pillow for her phone. As soon as she checks the time, her expression goes blank. “You’re kidding.” “You can sleep on the way there,” I promise. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.” But a few minutes later, while she’s packing her belongings, she’s still irritable and drowsy. “This is bullshit.” She grabs her outfit from last night from the back of the chair and tosses it onto the heap of clothing in her suitcase.
