Saying Goodbye, Part One (Passports and Promises Book 1) by Abigail Drake Page A

me, the water streaming down his face.  “Is there such a thing?”
    “My period is due any day. It’ll be okay.”
    We stood up and finished showering. Dylan went to make breakfast, and I dug around in his bathroom for a hairbrush. My hair was a tangled mess and I knew it would eat Dylan’s comb alive. I opened his medicine cabinet and stepped back in surprise. The entire thing was filled with prescription bottles, all with Dylan’s name on them.
    I picked one up with a shaky hand, and then another. I didn’t recognize the names of anything in his cupboard. A sharp stab of worry pierced my heart. Even my grandmother didn’t take this much medicine and she had every ailment known to man.
    “Hurry up, Sam. Breakfast is almost ready.” Dylan’s voice came from the kitchen, startling me. I closed the door to the medicine cabinet quietly and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Something was wrong with Dylan. Something was very wrong. But I didn’t know how to even bring it up.
    “I’ll be there in just a second.”
    I combed my hair as best I could and pulled it up into a messy bun. I’d borrowed one of Dylan’s t-shirts and a pair of sweats. I had to roll up the sleeves of the shirt and the waistband of the pants several times in order to walk.
    He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my shoulder when I came into the kitchen. “That was possibly the best shower I’ve ever taken.”
    I giggled and slid into a chair, but couldn’t quite meet his eyes. He put a plate in front of me and watched me closely. Dylan had a sort of radar sense when it came to my moods.
    “Are you okay?”
    I nodded, taking a bite of the scrambled eggs and toast he’d set in front of me. “I just have a lot to do today.”
    He poured me some coffee and I gave him a grateful smile, pushing the image of the pill bottles from my mind. I wasn’t ready to ask him about them yet. Part of me just didn’t want to know, but I wondered if all those pills were somehow connected to his absence last year. It was a lot to process.
    Dylan dropped me off at the Theta house. I gave him a quick kiss and promised to meet him for breakfast the next morning. As I jogged to the house, I had to hold his sweats up with one hand as I clutched my dress over my arm with the other.
    I looked ridiculous in heels and sweats, but lucked out and no one saw me. Most of the girls were already decorating for the party, so I avoided any uncomfortable questions. I changed my clothes quickly and ran down to help.
    I was so busy I barely had the chance to think about Dylan all day. A few times I paused, remembering what we’d done with a loopy smile on my face, but Mary Grace usually snapped me out of it by barking a command. We had little time and a lot to accomplish, and although the pill bottles worried me, I convinced myself Dylan was fine and probably had a very good explanation for it. Instead, I focused on creating a fall fantasyland out of fake flowers and leaves in shades of gold, orange, and red. Before I knew it, it was time to get dressed up again and face the masses.
    The party was a roaring success. We had a record number of girls interested in joining this year, and the Theta house was filled to the brim. As a member of the recruitment committee, I had my hands full.
    Joining a sorority was nothing like rushing a frat. It involved dresses and tea, not beer. Never beer. No alcoholic drinks were served at all, in fact. The girls perched eagerly on their chairs, eyes wide and makeup perfect, as our president, Mary Grace, extolled the virtues of being a Theta. Then we had a formal meal in the dining area of the house. We’d spent most of the day decorating with twinkle lights and fall colors, and the effect was magical. Later, at the social, we mingled and chatted. I took notes regarding which girls fit the Theta mold and which didn’t. Mary Grace snuck a peek at my notes and snorted.
    “Sam. We can’t let every single girl in.”
    I twisted my pencil