Page 171 of Wrath

No one's coming in, I tell myself—just reassuring. Every night this happens, I get a handle on it fast, and no one comes in.

I breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. Try to feel the bed under me.

You're okay. You're not at Alton,angel.

I put a hand over my chest. Re-play my own words in my head. I hug the pillow to my chest and shut my eyes.Angel. Where did I hear that? I can’t help a puzzled smile. I feel almost okay. The feeling is such a surprise, that more tears come.

You’re okay. You’re not at Alton, angel.

Five

Josh

April 19, 2019

"Josh, wake up. We're almost there."

My eyes flip open and focus on a plane of gray before I understand what I'm looking at: the interior roof of my mom's white Maxima. Once I've blinked, I wish I hadn't—because now I have to look at her.

I do, and Mom forces a smile. "We're almost to the campus. You should sit up. Look around," she urges.

I sit my chair up and blink out the window. "Looks...developed." I've been to Auburn before, but it was a few years ago, to watch a college football game with Bren and Marcel.

"There are a lot more high-rises than I remember," Mom says. "But it's nice. And everything looks very student-oriented."

Mom starts looking at her phone, aiming us toward campus, with its dark-red brick main building, known as Samford Hall.

"Do you want me to hold it for you?"I ask, waving at her cell phone.

"I've got it."

Two campus side streets and two parking lots later, we're parking in front of another red brick, dark-roofed, tree-shrouded Southern college building.Some kind of random place—the old agriculture building, I think?

"We'll have to walk a block up to the library,” Mom says. “The really large building?"

I force what I hope looks like a smile. "I saw the sign for it."

"Seminar for parents, meet and greet for students, and then back together for the tour. It sounds like they’ve really thought this through.” Mom smiles and gets out of the car. She's wearing jeans, a sweater, and sunglasses, and toting a white leather purse.

"I can't believe we're looking at a college that’s accepted my son,” she says.

I give her another smile and adjust my ball cap, feeling awkward as we walk together across the parking lot and toward the sidewalk, where other people are already trickling toward the library.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

I assume she means about this college tour, so I say, "Good. I like it. I think."

Mom gives me one of her thoughtful, worried mom looks.

"What?" I press.

"You know what." She picks the pace up, walking half a step ahead of me before she drops back. Still won't look at me, though.

"Just say it,” I tell her.

She stops. When she whirls toward me, her face is tight with anger. "What would you like me to say, Josh? Here on Auburn's college campus? What do you think I have to say about it that we didn't say already?"

"I don't know." My eyes throb as my throat goes too tight. "Whatever it is, you need to say it. Get it off your chest."

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