11

She tugged on some cotton shorts, a tank with a built-in bra and a T-shirt, worn through in spots from being washed so many times. When she flipped on the bathroom lights, she took a second to remember, again, what she'd felt like before the night began. Happy. Terrified. Excited. Now she just felt exhausted. A makeup remover wipe took care of her face, bringing it back to its normal state. A brush did the trick for her hair when it was tugged high on top of her head and off her neck. Her hand was just about to flip the light switch off when the door buzzer rang.

Elena froze. "Nooo," she moaned because for some weird, fucked up reason, she just knew. Oh, did she know who it was. She knew it couldn't be Emily because she'd given her sister a key. It rang again, and she swore under her breath. It was the kind of language that would've cost her a fortune in her family swear jar.

With a brick of nerves lodged in her throat, Elena hit the speaker button. "Who is it?" she asked, hoping that