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“Maybe he’s at a bar or restaurant or something,” I say in a weak voice.
“Without his wallet? Was he upset?”
“Obviously.” I try to sound irritated at the inquisition, but now she has my pulse pounding a little harder. He’s fine, right? He found some warm place to hide and blow off steam, no big deal.
Kim’s concern is all over her face when she slings her purse back over her shoulder and zips her coat. She tugs on a knit hat and grabs Tristan’s coat from the hook.
“Where are you going?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
To do what you should have done two hours ago.Guilt seeps through me, which only makes me more defensive. He’s made it clear since we were teenagers that I have no place in his life.
“To find him,” Kim says.
“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s an adult. He doesn’t need someone babysitting him twenty-four-seven.”
“Are you serious? He absolutelydoesneed that. He can’t be alone with himself right now. His head is a complete disaster.”
Her eyes finish the reprimand for her.You shouldn’t have let him go. This is your fault.
“Come on. It’s Tristan,” I say. “He’s as tough as they come.”
Her gaze hardens as she yanks open the door. “He’s not okay, Iz. Can’t you see that? It’s not my brother who came back from that place. It’s a ghost. A fucking husk!”
Our door gets slammed for the second time in five minutes, and I scramble to find my own coat.
A husk. Yes. That’s a good description of the man whose vibrant soul once owned mine. Then crushed it. Then traded it for a reckless night that ruined so many others.
You don’t owe him anything.
I don’t. So why does it feel like I owe him everything?
We search on foot. Tristan didn’t have a car, phone, or money so he wouldn’t be anywhere he couldn’t reach by walking. There aren’t many buildings in our part of town that would welcome a penniless wanderer, and I realize with a sinking feeling that he’s likely not indoors. It’s unseasonably warm for a Pennsylvania winter night, but it’s still no condition for lounging around in nothing but jeans and a hoodie.
We’re both thinking the same thing, but neither of us says it as we scour Waverly Park for any sign of him. He’s been running the trail here a lot, but the darkness is making our search even more difficult.
“There! By the tree,” Kim says. “Is that him?”
I squint in the direction she points. “No, it’s just a trash can, I think.”
As we get closer, I sense her deflate.
“I’m scared, Iz,” she whispers after we give up on the park and cross the street to the line of shops and restaurants.
I clench my jaw against the ache in my chest. This isn’t my fault but it feels like it. Or maybe it is my fault. Maybe if I’d been brave enough to stand up to Pierce sooner, if I’d forced Tristan to stay or went after him…
Don’t go down that road. You’re not the one who jumped a curb and killed the community’s golden girl. You’re not the one who drove with a suspended license when it happened. You’re not the one who fled the scene of a fatal accident, leaving her to die. And you’re definitely not the one who humiliated a lovesick girl in front of the entire school on what should have been the best night of her life.
Exactly. He made his own mess. Just because I don’t think he’s a “monster” for making a mistake, doesn’t mean I have to let him into my life.
Kim is clearly upset, though, which tugs at something inside. No matter how rocky my history with Tristan may be, I don’t want him freezing to death either.
We search for another half hour, but don’t find any sign of him. My own extremities are numb with cold, and at this point it’s safe to say he’s either hiding somewhere inside or still walking, in which case we’ll never catch up on foot.
“Let’s go back. We can’t help him if we’re frozen too,” I say.
She turns a glare on me. “You’re giving up?”
“I’m not giving up, but I think we should go back and regroup. Let’s thaw out and come up with a better plan to find him.”
