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“Maybe she just needs time to deal with everything that has happened?”
I remember the funeral. It all came out of nowhere since Nixon didn’t tell anybody that his mom was sick, so nobody knew until Hayden sent out a group message with the funeral details. Nixon was livid because his dad showed up drunk, but Jade? It was like she wasn’t there at all. She was standing next to her brother and Yasmin, her face pale, those blue eyes lifeless as she stared at nothing, tears streaming down her face.
A ghost.
“That’s the thing, when I ask her about it. She says she’s fine, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. Doesn’t want to talk about Mom or what happened.”
“People deal with pain in different ways.” I should know it better than anyone. Not that I say that out loud. “She’ll be fine. Just give her time.”
“I guess you’re right. Maybe I’m just tired.” Nixon lets out a sigh, his fingers drumming over the hood of his car. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
“Sure thing.”
With a nod, he gets inside his car. I watch him as he pulls on his seatbelt. The worry lines were still etched deep between his brows.
Is he right? Is there something that he’s missing? That we’re missing?
My phone rings, so I pull it out, my jaw clenching when I see the name on the screen.
Dad.
We haven’t talked since that disastrous dinner last week, and I was fine with that. More than fine, actually. But, of course, he had to go and ruin it.
Silencing my phone, I toss it in the car just as Nixon pulls away. I slide into my seat, my leg sighing in relief when I take the pressure off it. Leaning over the console, I open the compartment and grab the pill bottle from inside, shaking two pills into my hand and tossing them into my mouth. My throat bobs as I swallow, the pills leaving a bitter taste in their wake.
The screen of my phone lights up again, drawing my attention.
You kill everyone you love,Dad’s accusation echoes in my mind, more vivid than ever since the conversation with Nixon brought back old memories.
Old guilt.
I close my eyes, my head falling back as I try to tune it out.
I should go home, try and get some rest before our away game, or even get some work done since there’s a pile of homework and reading material already waiting for me, but as my fingers curl around the steering wheel, I know I won’t do either.
I need to get out of here.
I need to forget.
And there’s only one place where I can do that.
Turning the key, I listen to that familiar purr of the engine that has my blood start pumping faster in anticipation. The heavy beat of rock fills the cabin as I put the car in drive, and then I press the gas.
I try to keep my speed within the limits while I’m inside the campus, but the moment I’m out, I press my foot harder, watching the hand on my speedometer rise.
My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, the adrenaline coursing through me as I speed down the road.
This.
This is exactly what I need.
The music. The road. The speed.
The only place in which I can lose myself. The only place where nothing else matters. Not football. Not my parents. And definitely not the promise that’s haunting me.
I let my mind empty of everything as I take curve after curve until my headlights illuminate on a person walking down the side of the road.
What the hell?
