Free Never Never: Part Two (Never Never #2) by Colleen Hoover, Tarryn Fisher Page A

time. I pretended to swallow them and kept them in my cheek. She stayed so long they were starting to dissolve. As soon as the door closed behind her, I spit them into my hand.
    No more drowsiness. I need to be clear of mind.
    I slept of my own accord and had more dreams earlier. Dreams of the same guy as in the first dream. Or should I say the first memory? In my dream, the guy was leading me through a dirty street. He wasn’t looking at me, he was looking ahead, his whole body pulling forward like some invisible force had hold of him. In his left hand was a camera. He stopped suddenly and looked across the street. I followed his gaze.
    “There,” he said. “Look.”
    But I didn’t want to look. I turned my back on what he was seeing, looked at a wall instead. Then all of a sudden, his hand was no longer in mine. I turned and watched him cross the street and approach a woman sitting cross-legged against a wall. In her arms she cradled a tiny baby wrapped in a woolen blanket. The guy crouched down in front of her. They spoke for a long time. He handed her something and she smiled. When he stood up, the baby started to cry. That’s when he snapped the picture.
    I could still see her face when I woke up, but it wasn’t a real-life image, it was a photo. The one he took. A ragged mother with knotted hair, staring down at her infant, his tiny mouth open in a scream, their backdrop the chipped paint of a bright blue door.
    When the dream was over, I wasn’t sad like last time. I wanted to meet the boy who documented suffering in such vivid color.

    I lie awake most of what I assume is the night. She returns with breakfast.
    “You again,” I say. “Never a day off…or an hour.”
    “Yup,” she says. “We’re understaffed, so I’m working doubles. Eat.”
    “Not hungry.”
    She offers me the cup of pills. I don’t take them.
    “I want to see a doctor,” I say.
    “The doctor is very busy today. I can make an appointment for you. He can probably see you sometime next week.”
    “No. I want to see a doctor today. I want to know what medication you’re giving me and I want to know why I’m here.”
    It’s the first time I’ve seen anything but bored friendliness on her face. She leans forward, and I can smell the coffee on her breath. “Don’t be a brat,” she hisses. “You don’t get to make demands here, do you understand me?” She shoves the pills at me.
    “I’m not taking those until a doctor tells me why I am,” I say, nodding toward the cup. “Do you understand me ?”
    I think she’s going to hit me. My hand feels for the piece of pipe under my pillow. The muscles in my shoulders and back tense, the balls of my feet press down on the tile. I am ready to spring if I need to. But the nurse turns, inserts her key into the door, and is gone. I hear the click of the lock, and then I’m alone again.

“I can’t believe you got away with that,” I say to her. I drop my hands to her waist, pushing her until her back is against her bedroom door. She places her palms against my chest and looks up at me with an innocent grin.
    “Got away with what?”
    I laugh and press my lips against her neck. “It’s an homage to family history ?” I laugh, moving my lips up her neck, drawing closer to her mouth. “What are you going to do if you ever want to break up with me? You’ll be stuck living in a house that was named after the phrase you use with your ex-boyfriend.”
    She shakes her head and pushes against me so she can walk past me. “If I ever want to break up with you, I’ll just have Daddy change the name of our house.”
    “He would never do that, Char. He thought the b.s. meaning you gave him was genius.”
    She shrugs. “Then I’ll burn it to the ground.” She sits on the edge of her mattress, and I take a seat next to her, pushing her onto her back. She giggles as I lean over her and cage her in with my hands. She’s so beautiful.
    I’ve always known she was beautiful, but this year