It's only when I've made it back to the apartment and locked the door door that I allow myself to breath a sigh of relief, but it's only a moment before I realize how absurd this situation is. If Jareth wants to get into my apartment, a locked door probably isn't going to stop him. Oh my God, what did I just do? When I said those words again, I saw the look of shock on his face that quickly turned to anger. Great, I made the Goblin King mad at me when he's already planning revenge. Good job, Sarah.
I grab a wool blanket from the linen closet and go to the couch to curl into a ball and read. Maybe Jane Eyre can help me get my mind off of other things. I try not to think about him, but after reading the same sentence seven times, I give up and set the book down. What am I going to do? What is he going to do? He might not have power over me, but he's had a lot of time to think of ways around that if he wants to. A million possibilities run through my mind. What if he tries to take Toby again, or someone else I love? Or he could just find ways to make my life a living hell.
I frown and shake my head. No. I won't let him ruin my life. He was probably just saying that to scare me anyway. He's the king of the goblins; surely he has more interesting things to do than terrorize a human. Like entertain his date. A mental image of the two of them pressed together in a kiss pops into my head. In my daydream, she has her arms around his neck, and he slides his hands down her back, pulling her even closer against his body as his tongue dances against hers. I'm not quite sure when the image of the un-named woman turns into myself, but as soon as I realize what I'm thinking, I blush and get up quickly from the couch to pace the room. What the hell am I doing?
I should really just try to go to sleep. There's nothing I can do about this tonight, and I'm actually getting kind of tired. Not that I'll be able to get to sleep with all the thoughts running through my head. After changing into my pajama's and removing my makeup, I crawl into bed and close my eyes.
My alarm clock wakes me at 6 a.m., and I quickly turn it off and try to go back to sleep. It's just my luck that I forgot to turn the damn thing off for the weekend. It took me just as long as I thought it would to get to sleep last night, so I've really only had about four hours. But my mind won't let me fall asleep again, now that I'm awake. I sigh as I climb out of bed and make my way to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, being as quiet as I can so I don't wake Hannah, asleep on the couch. It looks like she didn't even make it to her bedroom when she got home. She must have been completely sloshed.
The smell of coffee filling the apartment wakes her up eventually, and I hear an annoyed groan from the sofa.
"Sarah, what the fuck time is it?"
I wince as I come into the living room with my cup.
"I'm sorry. I was trying not to wake you up. It's about 6:15," I answer.
"Why in the world are you even awake," she asks. "Oh my God, I have the worst headache. Did you make enough of that for me?"
I laugh and go back to the kitchen to get her a cup. When I come back, she's sitting up on the couch with the blanket wrapped around her. She takes the steaming mug from me, and I take a seat next to her.
"You know, I probably wouldn't have woken you up if you had been sleeping in your own bed…"
She takes a sip of the hot drink before answering me.
"I know, but my friends needed some place to sleep."
I frown at her.
"Your what? There are other people here? Why couldn't they go to their own house?" I'm really not in the mood for guests, especially some of Hannah's crazy friends.
She holds her hand up to stay my questions.
"We were all super drunk, and I thought they were pretty cool people, so I invited them to stay here instead of having to take a cab back to their hotel last night."
"Hannah, did you just meet some random people last night and let them stay at our apartment? What the hell? They could be serial killers!"
"Oh my God, Sarah, calm down. You're so dramatic. Yes, I met them last night, but they're fine. They're super nice, and since we're both still alive, I'd say they aren't serial killers." She answered.
"That's not the point, Hannah! They could have been. Bringing strangers into our home was a dangerous thing to do!" I yell.
"Oh, but we're hardly strangers, Sarah. You and I are old friends."
The voice from Hannah's doorway cuts in, and I jump, surprised to find we have an audience. My surprise quickly turns to alarm when I realize the man leaning against the door frame is Jareth.