Broken and Screwed
Page 22

 Tijan

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Then I reached out and touched his arm. I pleaded in a tender voice, “Tell me. Please.”
He started to shake his head, but his voice wrung out, “I feel him, you know. All the time.”
I blinked back rapid tears. Then I choked out, “Me, too.”
His jaw clenched. “I feel him at school, too. I can’t get away from him. The only time is when I’m with you.” Then he looked up. There was an extra layer of wetness over his eyes. The tears were there, brimming to be shed. “But that makes no sense. I should feel him when I’m with you. You’re the only other person to—”
My phone peeled out a shrill ring at that moment. I threw my hands up and let loose a few curses. It was the worst timing, but all the fight left me when I saw who was on the other end. I went numb as I answered it. “Dad?”
“Your, uh…” He cleared his throat. His voice sounded rough. “Your mother is in the hospital. She swallowed a bunch of pills.”
“What?” I gasped. All thought ceased. Flashbacks from Ethan’s accident flooded me and I struggled to hear what else he was saying.
“…keeping her for observation…a seventy-two hour hold…coffee…”
And then he hung up.
I stared at the phone in my hand. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember answering it in the first place, and I frowned at it. What was I doing with my phone? As I looked around, I saw Jesse. His hands were shoved deep in his jeans’ pockets and he was watching me with a fierce frown.
Then I remembered it again.
“What’d your dad want?”
“Ethan was in a car accident.” The words spilled from my lips.
Wait—I frowned. That wasn’t right.
I’d been at a party with Marissa and Angie. It was my turn for the drinking game and the phone pulled me away. For a split second, I thought about ignoring my dad’s call. What did he want? I was having fun, but then Angie nudged me with her shoulder and when I answered, I heard those same exact words. Ethan had been in a car accident.
“Alex.” Jesse touched my arm. His voice rushed me back to the present day. “What’d your dad say just now?”
I frowned again. Why was this so difficult? “My mother.”
“What about her?” He took both of my arms and stood in front of me. He bent low so his eyes were level with mine.
I felt him trying to pull me back, but I wasn’t sure where from.
Then it slipped out. “She tried to kill herself.”
He sucked in his breath and stayed there for a moment. I thought he was going to pull me into his arms, but he didn’t. His hands fell away. I was cold without him, but then he stepped further back.
“I’ll take you to the hospital.”
I searched his eyes. They were guarded. He had closed me out, but it didn’t matter anymore. I was surprised as I realized that. I didn’t even want to go to the hospital. I’d see her in seventy-two hours. I wouldn’t feel her emptiness for three days, and a part of me was relieved. It was a part that I would never share with anyone.
Jesse touched my arm again. “I’ll take you.”
“Will you stay with me?” I wouldn’t go if he wouldn’t be there with me.
He nodded. His voice gentled. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
My heart swelled inside, but I reminded myself that he would leave again. Jesse always left. But his hands were gentle as he ushered me out to his car. When we got to the hospital, he went to the front desk and asked the questions I couldn’t bear to even form in my mind, and then bundled me into the elevator.
I drew in a shuddering breath.
He punched the button for the same floor we’d been on during Ethan’s surgery. My mother was in surgery. What did that mean?
Then the elevator sounded our arrival and we were walking down the same hallway as before. It hadn’t changed. The walls were white and stark. A few paintings were hung, but they were out of place. And they were in memory of others who had died already.
I shivered. I wondered if I donated one, would it be in Ethan’s memory?
“Jesse?”
My father pushed out of his chair. His normally tan face was pale. His features that always seemed charming and charismatic were twisted into a grieving mask, but his eyes lit up when he saw Jesse beside me. Then he had his arms around him and I heard his voice muffled against Jesse’s shoulder, “Thank God you’ve come. It’s real good to see you.”
Jesse’s eyes flashed in confusion at me, but he hugged my father back. When my dad didn’t let go, Jesse gave in and hugged him tighter. After another second, my dad released Jesse, but only to hold him by the shoulders. He shook him a bit. “It’s real good to see you. I mean that. How have you been?”
I saw that Jesse swallowed tears back. His head nodded and then hung.
My dad hugged him again. This time was longer, as if Jesse had been the one who died and came back to life.
After the second hug, Jesse asked hoarsely, “How’s Shelby?”
“Oh.” My dad’s arms fell away. He shook his head and the same hoarseness came to his voice. “She ain’t doing good. She’s in surgery right now. They had to pump her stomach and I guess she swallowed a razorblade, too. After she’s healed up, the docs are going to evaluate if they’ll do the seventy-two hour hold or not. She’ll have to have a worker watch her at all times.”
Jesse looked at me in question.
I flinched as I knew what he was thinking. Why hadn’t I told him before? He knew my mother would’ve shown signs of depression before, but how was I supposed to answer that? We were all sad. We’d been sad for so long. It hadn’t only been her.
I turned away and found an empty seat. Then I huddled in my own corner. My father never once looked at me. When he saw Jesse, his eyes were only for him. That’s when I knew that I’d been right. He loved Jesse more than me. Jesse was his last real connection to Ethan. After a few more hours, as we waited to hear how the surgery went, my dad only talked to Jesse. They hugged a few more times, and then Jesse took the seat beside me. He relayed everything my father told him.
After the sixth hour of being there, the doctor came out. My father motioned for Jesse to approach the doctor with him. And again, Jesse came back to me. The surgery had gone well. My mother would be held for observation and placed under suicide watch. Jesse explained the same thing my dad had mentioned earlier, that a hospital worker would be with her at all times of the day. She would be watched in a one-on-one capacity while she healed until the psychologists felt she was no longer a danger to herself.