The Perfect Spiral (by Ashley Constantine) novel Chapter 55

I awaken to the relentless throb of a headache and the sound of someone crunching cereal beside me. The mere thought of food makes me cringe.

With a groan, I lift my hands to my temples, rubbing them in soothing circles to ease the pulsating pain. Blinking my eyes open, I find Hannah, Andy, and Ben perched on my bed, munching away.

The sight of food sends me bolting for the bathroom. At first, I’m just dry heaving, but soon I’m emptying the contents of my stomach.

A gentle hand rubs my back, and a glass of water is placed beside me with a soft clink against the tiles. I rinse my mouth out a few times, the cool water a welcome relief.

Turning around, I find Ben sitting on the bathroom floor with me, while Andy lingers in the doorway. Hannah, who can’t stomach the sight or sound of someone being sick, is conspicuously absent.

Ben continues to rub my back as I empty my stomach. Once I’m done, I rinse my mouth out again, then brush my teeth twice to rid myself of the lingering taste.

I hate the way my stomach clenches, the odd cracking of my bones as they aid in the dreadful task. My throat burns from the stomach acid that traveled up along with my partially digested food.

Emerging from the bathroom, I sit on the bed and nibble on some bread, hoping it will settle my stomach.

“Have

you seen Knox’s new Instagram post? We’re trying to figure out who it is, along with the rest of the nation. It’s major news right now, it’s all over the TV,” Hannah says, her eyes glued to her phone.

I raise an eyebrow at her, focusing on keeping my food down with deep, calming breaths. “It might be that girl, the one he thinks is complicated to ask out?” I suggest, shredding the bread and popping it into my mouth.

A small sting in my heart and a sinking feeling in my stomach accompany my words. An Instagram picture making the news? I’m slowly losing faith in humanity.

“Here, this one,” Hannah hands me her phone, and my eyes widen at the picture.

It’s the one where I was sitting on his lap, straddling him. The one where you can’t see my face, and he’s holding onto my waist, his thumb stroking my skin. It was uploaded yesterday at six o’clock when we were getting ready. The image is in black and white, so my bikini color isn’t visible. Andy turns on my TV to show me that it is, in fact, on the news.

People are way too invested in his life. I continue to cat, trying to feel better, while the four of us stare at the flashing lights across the screen.

…..This picture was uploaded yesterday, but we don’t know for sure when it was taken. We have a few pictures to show that he was holding his camera around his body yesterday down at the beach in Chapter 55 of 106: Chapter 55

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Savannah while sitting next to Alex Thompson. But there are a few sources saying it’s Lauren and others are saying it’s Alex. We have yet to find out! He hasn’t posted a picture so cryptic before, because it’s captionless with no hashtags it adds to the mystery of who this girl is? It clearly shows that she’s sitting comfortably on his lap, he’s wearing black or navy shorts but we can’t be sure because it’s black and white. You can see from these pictures that he’s pretty cozy with Alex on the beach? What are your thoughts guys? Tweet us!”

I zone out, looking back down at the picture. I bite the inside of my cheek, almost drawing blood. I have to admit it is a good picture, the way he’s holding my waist gives me butterflies in my stomach.

There are lots of comments, tagging me and Lauren in them. Then again, it could just be that he liked the photo composition and decided to post it because it’s artistic.

“Is it you?” Andy asks softly. I tear my gaze away from Hannah’s phone and hand it back to her. She continues scrolling through the comments, deciphering people’s opinions.

“It’s quickly becoming the most liked picture on Instagram, he has over eight million likes already and counting,” Hannah informs us, her eyes never leaving the lit screen in her hands.

I feel Ben’s hand rest on my thigh, silently asking me to tell him if it is me. He sends me a reassuring smile, letting me know that I can tell them and it’s alright if it is.

I close my eyes and let out a deep breath that I didn’t know I was holding. “Promise not to say anything?” I ask, opening one eye to see them nod in unison.

“It’s me,” I admit, and their faces light up like they’ve just been handed a slice of chocolate cake.

“I knew it!” Andy whispers, pumping her fist in the air.

“But don’t read into it. He probably just uploaded it because he likes the way it looked. There’s no deep meaning to it,” I caution them, trying to explain how his mind works. He can be very calculated at times, but this isn’t one of those times. They roll their eyes but don’t push it.

After we finish eating and gossiping about last night, we head back downstairs. Lauren slides the door open as soon as we enter, and I resist the urge to comment on her lingering presence.

“Who’s the chick, dude?” Kyle asks Knox, who sits up straight but ignores the question, continuing to

eat his breakfast.

“Me, of course, Knox, babe. I didn’t know you were so artistic or that you’re good with the camera. Maybe we could do a shoot together?” Lauren suggests, leaning over to squeeze her boobs together and batting her lashes at him in her best come–hither face.

He releases a sigh, responding with a simple, “No.” As he finishes his meal, he rises from his seat and heads in my direction, Hannah persistently nudging me in the side, vying for my attention. She succeeds, but it earns her a glare.

Chapter 55 of 106: Chapter 55

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I disengage from the counter, moving around to the sink to wash my hands. A plate is placed in the sink, a hand resting on my back. I quickly sidestep his heated touch, reaching for a towel hanging on the

oven handle.

I select a cold pancake, drizzle it with maple syrup, and wrap it up before heading out to the deck. I settle onto the sofa, alone, nibbling on the syrup–drenched pancake.

I recline, pulling the blanket from the back of the chair to cover my bare legs. As I nestle into the sofa, the sliding door opens. It’s probably Lauren.

I don’t bother to lift my head to confirm. Then, the click of a camera. My eyes dart to the source of the

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