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Henley makes it her mission to leave her house as early as humanly possible. An act of self-preservation against the war zone of her home. She’s admitted more than once that sitting on her own in the relatively deserted school is preferable.
“Have you called her?”
I stare at Addy blankly. “Of course, I fucking called her. It goes straight to voicemail.”
“Check her class, Brooks.” She sighs in irritation. “She’ll be around. Maybe she’s sick?”
Irritated at her lack of help or concern, I growl in frustration as I move toward our first class.
The glaringly empty seat mocks me as I enter, and I glance at the teacher once before leaving immediately.
“Mr. Riley,” the old woman calls after me, but I charge through the hallway, ignoring the echo of my name down the empty space.
“Has Henley Wright called in sick today?” I ask by way of greeting when I step into the main office.
“Manners would get you further, Mr. Riley,” the school secretary reprimands.
“Sorry,” I say, sounding anything but. “We’re working on a report together today, and she hasn’t called to tell me I’ll have to pick up the slack.”
She eyes me over her glasses. It’s not hard to pick up that I’m lying through my ass. Henley and I have been inseparable from the first week I moved here. We’re a set, and everyone knows it.
I wait her out, unblinking, and she eventually sighs.
“No,” she answers testily. “She hasn’t called in sick. But her mother did send through an email early this morning informing the school that Henley would be taking a leave of absence.”
“What?” I breathe. “Show me the email.”
“Get back to class, Mr. Riley. I gave you the courtesy of giving youthatinformation. I’m sure Henley will call you herself.”
“I’m not feeling well.” My lie is hardly convincing, an obvious statement made in panic. “Mark me absent.”
Without giving her the opportunity to respond, I leave her office, my phone already attached to my ear as I call my mom to come and get me.
* * *
“Brooks, you need to calm down.”
“How can I calm down?” I punch the dashboard of my mother’s SUV in anger. “Leave of absence? What does that even mean?” I beseech.
“Henley will explain—”
“Henley’s not answering her phone!” I yell, cutting off her empty excuses.
I know I’m taking my frustration out on my mother, a sin I’ll pay for later with a confiscated phone and grounding, but it'll be worth it.
To find Henley. . . it’ll be worth it.
“Take me to her house,” I demand. “Please,” I add as an afterthought when she raises her eyebrow in my direction.
“Brooks.” She sighs.
“I’m worried, okay?” I’m glad she can’t hear the pounding of my heart.
Henley told me something like this would happen. We sat on our rock only days ago, and she told me all of this would end badly. She saw this coming, and I didn’t believe her.
“Okay.” She gives in without further argument.
“Thank you,” I offer quietly, too afraid to speak as a lump in my throat forms.
