November Sky (Hardest Mistakes Book 2) by Dannielle Wicks

eyebrow at me incredulously. “You didn’t look fine when I found you curled up on a pile of broken plates.” She grabs my hand and leads me down a short hallway to the bedroom. I try to pull my hand from her grip, but I’m too weak. “What happened anyway?”
    “Nothing,” I answer, trying to walk away from her. I don’t even make it two steps before I stumble and she grabs a hold of my arm to keep me steady. She nudges me closer to the bed.
    “This is your bed?” I ask quietly, looking over the colorful blankets and the trinkets on the nightstand.
    She nods. “You need it more than I do.”
    I turn on her, annoyed. “I’m not sleeping in your room, on your bed.”
    She glares at me. “Oh, and you have a bed to go back to at your place, do you? Or would you like me to smash up a few of my things for you to sleep on instead?” Her sarcasm hurts a little and I flinch away. She pushes my arm again forcefully. I falter and sit down on the bed.
    I stare at her as she pulls the covers back and gently helps me lie down. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I can feel the weight of sleep pressing in on me. My eyes are already half closed and heavy. Bailey sits on the edge of the bed and bites her lip.
    This might be my only chance. I have to know before I lose the courage to ask.
    “Why did you come looking for me?”
    Her expression softens as she looks up. “I was worried about you, Krissy.”
    “But I left you outside my building, alone. And I’ve never been very nice to you. I don’t understand why you stick around…why you care.”
    “Shhh.” She places her hand on my cheek. “Shut up and go to sleep.”
    She stands and leaves the room, stopping at the door to switch off the light and look back at me. I watch, struggling to keep my eyes open, until her shadow leaves the doorway.
     
    ***
     
    “Are you going to work today?” Bailey’s soft voice wakes me. I groan and roll over, facing away from her. She takes the hint and with a loud sigh, leaves a moment later. I hear the front door slam and the lock click. I try to close my eyes and sleep again, but I’m no longer tired. Huffing out a complaint, I throw the covers back and climb out of the bed. My legs are wobbly at first, but I manage to keep myself steady as I wander out into the living room.
    Bailey’s apartment is much bigger than mine. She has a full kitchen and living room. All of the rooms are decorated very tastefully. The walls are warm colors and the furniture looks extremely comfortable. I amble around the main room, pausing at the large fireplace to gaze at the photo frames lined up along the top.
    The picture in the center is of her and Riley, except they look much younger. I do a double take and glance once more at all the photos; none of them show their parents or any other family. I wonder why? Leaving that thought alone for the moment, I walk over to the large wooden desk, sitting in front of the window. She has a nice view of the city. I open the window, letting the gust of fresh air wash across my face before sitting down in the desk chair.
    Something amongst the paper bills on her desk catches my eye, and I shuffle them aside to see. It’s a large sketch of a lounging cat. It’s incredibly well done and the signature at the bottom is Bailey’s. I didn’t know she could draw, she didn’t say anything. Then again, it’s not like I’ve been very forthcoming with anything either, I suppose. I pick up the sketchbook and flip through the other pages. The drawings get better and more accurate as I go. I flip the next page and freeze. My own eyes stare up at me from the paper; I’m stunned at the effort and detail. Laying the sketch pad back down on the desk, I place my hands on either side of it and gape at the pencil lines.
    The door clicks open and Bailey strides in holding a plastic bag in one hand and her keys in the other. She looks over at me and frowns. Rushing over she snatches the sketchbook away from me and tucks it