Page 34 of Lose You to Find Me

Deathly quiet.

No murmurs.

No conversations from anybody.

Slowly, I look up at the guy who knows he fucked up. When I lock eyes with him, it looks like he’s trying not to shit himself.

The worst part is that people do pity me.

They’ve pitied me since they heard the news. The number of times I’ve been told “sorry” has made me fucking immune to the word. I don’t even want to hear it anymore in any context, which is probably why hearing it from Raine didn’t mean shit the way it would have before Dad’s diagnosis.

Their condolences don’t change anything, least of all the fact that my dadisdying. But does that mean I want to hear people say it aloud and act like I’m asking for a handout? Like I expect one?

No.

Fuck no.

“Jeremy,” I say in a low, slow tone, “I’m usually not one to start shit, but I am the one who tends to end it. So for once in your life, I suggest you shut the hell up before I make you shut up. I’m in no goddamn mood today for your bullshit. Understand?”

The tension in the room grows, so much so that the professor walks in and stops to study everybody because he can sense something is about to happen. When he sees the stare-off between me and the douche who might have just pissed himself, he clears his throat and makes his way up to the front.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says, still eyeing us in the back. When his focus turns to me specifically, I can’t help but feel my jaw clench. “I wasn’t expecting you, Caleb. I figured you’d be dealing with…” His words trail off, finally snapping me away from Jeremy.

The confusion on my face must be obvious because DJ cuts in with “The store.”

Dumbly, I repeat, “The store?”

More people stare.

My friend’s eyes grow wary. “Dude, didn’t you look at your phone? I figured that’s why you weren’t in class this morning. People at Bea’s were talking about it. Matt and I tried getting ahold of you too, but you didn’t answer, so we figured you were already there with the cops. Raine said she reached out to you after she called the police.”

I pull out my phone and notice just how many messages there actually are that I’ve been avoiding since I woke up earlier.

“Fuck,” I say, darting up and collecting my things and ignoring the chair clattering to the floor behind me.

I read one message.

Then another.

Another.

Raine did, in fact, message me three different times before calling. So did Ronny. DJ. Matt. There are a few other people who are friends of the family who reached out, including a retired cop who Dad always played poker with on Friday nights before he was too sick to go.

DJ stands too. “I’ll come with you.”

I don’t have time to argue as I walk out of the classroom, feeling like the biggest dickhead known to man. The one time I take a fucking break, and the hardware store is robbed because I obviously didn’t lock the fucking door behind me when I left this morning.

DJ says, “Take a deep breath, man. You look like you’re about to explode.”

I stop abruptly, turning to him faster than he’s expecting. “That’s because I am.Oneday, DJ. I wanted one goddamn day where I didn’t have to deal with anything. I’m running on little sleep and coffee fumes. And look what happens when I try being selfish. I ignore a shit ton of people who’ve been trying to get in contact with me forhoursso that they don’t have to reach out to my parents and add more shit onto their plates. The store is my responsibility now.”

I swipe a hand through my hair, feeling how shaky my palm is from the anger. From theguilt.

Slowly, DJ takes the keys dangling from my free hand. “I’m driving because you’re going to rage the entire way there. The last thing you need is to damage your truck or, God forbid, get yourself or someone else killed because you’re pissed.”

I don’t fight him on it because I know he’s right. The last thing I want to do is get myself into a bigger hole than I’m already in.

“Caleb!” I hear, stopping me from opening the door to my truck. When I turn, I see Raine jogging over to DJ and me.

---