Short chapter
Riley's POV
My feet feel like led as I drag them up the six flights of stairs up to Jamie's apartment. I feel like shit. Probably because I am complete shit. I stayed up all night selling pills and powder to shaking, desperate regulars, to reluctant high school students all over this awful town.

I ruined lives. Just like I always do, and the only thing I have to show for it is a wad of cold, hard hundreds I'll have to give half of to Nate. I just want to pretend none of the last five hours happened. I want to pretend I'm not a bad person.

Picking Jamie's rusty lock I try to ignore the heavy bags under my eyes, and the awful feelings twisting my stomach up in knots. Once on the other side of the door I let out a heavy sigh when the rest of crummy world is outside. Suddenly I hate myself a little less.

This cramped studio must be magic, or something, because I feel safe here. Safety. It's a feeling so foreign it's borderline uncomfortable, I keep waiting for something, I don't know what, but anything to not make it safe. Till then I take a long, hot shower, brush my teeth, and collapse in Jamie's bed.

"What?!" Jamie bolts upright from her under her blankets.

"Shush, it's just me." I ease her panic, gently brushing my hand over her green eyes to shut them again. "Don't worry." I add ironically. In all honesty she should be a little worry that me of all people is crawling into her bed. But I want her to peacefully fall back asleep, not to look at me like I'm a monster.

"Oh." Jamie breathlessly mumbles, curling up on her side. Pulling the blankets up to her chin I roll so my back is to her, and there's as much space possible between us. I don't want to touch her, I don't want to touch, I don't want to touch her... I tell myself silently over and over again.

"Shouldn't you be getting up for work?" I ask a sleepy Jamie, half expecting her not to answer. It's nearly dawn, usually by now time Jamie is rushing off to catch her bus to that little bakery across town.

"... I'm doing the closing shift..." She mumbles, her voice airy and tired. That sleepy voice makes me throw caution to the wind, and I can't fight how I twist around to sling my arm around her waist. She's soft against me, like a plush stuffed bear; tranquilizing and heartwarming. Burying my head into her shoulder I feel myself start to drift off, knowing I'll have a really good sleep.