Page 92 of The Dating Pact

Start thinking of a list of places he might go? I don’t know.

I’m freaking out.

Nate

8 minutes away.

Liam

Try to stay calm. Call your parents. He might go there.

I turned the ignition over and set out, determined to drive in consecutively larger circles, like a bull’s-eyes with my house at the target. Brooke was right. He was on foot; he wouldn’t be able to get that far.

Though he was pretty fast.

As I drove, I called my mom then Youmna, telling each of them the same thing. First, not to panic—which, of course, made them panic and set mine to an even higher notch—and that I would explain everything later, but Seb had run away and to let me know if he showed up at their house.

Mom immediately put me on speaker and ordered my dad to get in the car to start looking.

Youmna immediately started yelling at George in Arabic. I assumed to get in the car and start looking.

Both of them were worried for Sebastian and for me but were understanding. A little too understanding.

I might have felt better if they got mad at me. Screamed at me for being a bad parent.

Neither of them did so.

And I’d never felt more guilt and humiliation than when I hung up with them. I’d messed up. Messed up so bad my kid had run away.

My vision blurred, and I slammed my hand on the steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn, before I pulled over. I had to clear my eyes and head, and once I parked, I stepped out of the car, only to kick the tire, letting myself cry and curse and free all of my anger.

Sebastian had been begging me for a cell phone, but I’d held off, reasoning he could use his iPad to communicate with his friends. He didn’t need a cell phone. He was too young.

Well.

He needed a cell phone now.

He had no way of calling or texting me. No way of letting me know where he was. If he needed me. If he was hurt. If…

I hung my head, crying into my hands, praying, asking Mira to help.

I’d lost our son.

I’d hurt our son.

This was my fault, and I needed to fix it.

Mira didn’t answer my silent pleas, and I wiped the collar of my shirt over my face. Sniffling a few times, I sat back behind the wheel once again and set off.

My heart pounded in my ears as I drove aimlessly, scouring every street and park for any sign of Sebastian. Each minute that ticked by ratcheted my anxiety higher, but I found my mind drifting to Brooke.

By now, she was probably in the waiting room, and I hoped to God everything went well. I couldn’t handle one more bad situation.

With no messages from her or Nate, I figured everything was still good at home, so I focused on finding Sebastian.

I had to find him. Had to find my son.

After driving for another hour with no sign of him, I picked up my phone, intent on calling my mother again to let her know I was going to call the police, but a text popped up.

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