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I smile into the phone, missing time with Ava. “You know how to win me over.”
“No, I just know how your brain works.” I select the title and prep it to play, when the phone goes silent, but I distantly hear the rustling from the other end, showing the line hasn’t gone dead. The tension in that silence makes me furrow my brows, but before I can say anything, Ava asks, her voice uncertain, “Hey, have you spoken to Hunter?”
I think for a moment. “We’ve texted. He wanted to give me some time to get settled, but otherwise, no. But I am going to his game on the weekend.” An unsettling feeling takes over in my stomach and I sit up a little straighter on the couch as the silence lingers.
“Conner saw him today. He said he was drinking.”
I wait for more. “What do you mean? I mean, our parents are dead. I think he is entitled to a drink or two.”
“He could barely stand and when Conner tried to help, he got defensive, telling him to leave because that’s what everyone does. It might be your parents deaths, but he’s been good until now.”
I instantly feel a wave of guilt, knowing that my brother is in pain and hasn’t spoken to me about it, or felt like he could. He has always been there for me, and I’ve been here, focused on my own life.
I run a hand through my hair as worry tenses my muscles. “Um, I’ll call him and check in. I’ll try to talk to him before the game if I can get there early enough. Maybe he’ll talk to me.”
There is a pause before I hear an unconvinced, “Maybe.”
We eventually say our goodbyes and hang up. I sit there and clench my phone in my hand, thinking how this is not like Hunter. He was never one to drink to the extent Ava was saying, hated it when father did, and promised he would never do it himself. Clearly, something has pushed him over the edge, and it could be our parents deaths but a feeling deep in my gut is screaming that it is more than that and that he needs me. So without another moment’s hesitation, I call him and hold the phone to my ear, listening to the incessant ringing over and over and over again.
It rings until I am greeted with Hunter’s voicemail, telling me to text him and maybe he’ll call back.
I try again two more times before, in a worried panic, I try Logan.
“Yep.”
I let out a breath of relief at the sound of Logan’s voice. “Logan, is Hunter with you?”
He doesn’t answer right away, hesitation evident as he speaks. “Yes.”
I sit there a minute and wait for further information before impatience starts to take over, and I exclaim, “And? Why isn’t he answering his phone?”
He hesitates again. “He’s kind of sleeping right now.”
Hearing the quiver in his voice, my mind flashes back to what Ava had said before narrowing my eyes at the phone. “Sleeping, or passed out?”
He says nothing but gives a sad sigh, which only answers my question and makes me hang my head at knowing that I have not been there when my brother is clearly going through something. Running my fingers through my hair, I say into the phone. “I’m coming over.”
“No!” Logan yells into the phone in a panic. “I’ve got this, Mia. He will kick my ass if he knew you knew.”
I rise from the couch and start to pace. “I’m his sister! I’m not gonna sit back while he drinks himself into oblivion.”
“Listen, he just needs time to process everything.”
I run my fingers through my hair again and groan. “He spent so much time after our parents died to make sure I was okay. I’m not leaving him to deal with this on his own.”
Logan clears his throat, hesitation returning, and my muscles stiffen at what else he might say. “I think it may be something else, Mia.”
I cock my head. “What do you mean?”
“He’s trying to deal with something, but I think it’s more than your parents deaths.”
“What makes you say that?”
He doesn’t answer at first, but when he does, he speaks in a low voice. “He doesn’t just look sad… He looks broken.”
Those words ring in my ears long after I end the call, after Logan promised to keep me updated.
I sit on the couch, staring blankly at the Netflix screen as my mind circles around over what could be setting Hunter off like this. It's not like him, but he never mentioned anything to me. Maybe he felt like he couldn’t talk to me. My heart aches at the thought.
