Page 132 of The One for Me
I rub my hand over my face and keep walking. No, nothing is okay. Everything is falling apart, and I’m the one to blame.
I give him the brief version of all the shit that’s changed since he was out here. No fluff, just details. “So, I’m dating a single mother.”
“I relate. It’s hard coming into that.”
“That’s not the crisis though. Austin ran off. We were at my place and Devney and I got in a fight . . . he wants to stay here, and she isn’t on board. I don’t know . . . it’s all so fucked up. I said stupid shit, and we’re not sure if he heard . . .”
“I’ve been there. Literally. Exactly where you are. Just take a deep breath.”
I do as he says and then look around. “I don’t know what the fuck to do. I love this kid, and I love his mother, and now he’s out here because he’s upset.”
“I get it. When Presley returned a few months ago, one of the boys wandered off. It was fucking hell. We were in the woods, searching for him for hours. Then, a few months later, Logan overheard something he shouldn’t have. It was difficult, but be honest and talk it out. Kids are resilient, I promise. Look, my best guess is he went somewhere to feel close to himself...”
Zach and I speak baseball, as does Austin. “He’s got to be at a field somewhere.”
“Try the ones he knows and then look for a local park or a game going on. I don’t know, it’s just what I would do if I were him.”
“Same. Thanks, Zach.”
“Call me and let me know when you find him.”
I agree and then hang up, making my run back to the field.
When I get there, I ask again if anyone has seen him. I don’t get the response I was hoping for, but I go in anyway.
I rush through the same way I took when I brought them here the other day and emerge by the dugout. I scour the field and don’t see him.
“Austin, where the hell are you?”
I turn around to head back out, and that’s when I see something that shouldn’t be there. Over at the very end of the dugout is a silhouette.
My heart begins to pound, and I run over and find him just sitting there, arms wrapped tight around his stomach, head down.
A part of me wants to yell out, but I don’t. I’ve been him before—broken, sad, lonely, and unsure of what to do. Back then, there was a little girl who would just come sit beside me. She didn’t say anything, she just let me know she was there, and it was enough to let me know I would be okay.
So, I’ll follow her example.
I send a quick text to Devney before I make my way closer.
Me: I found him. He’s okay. I’ll bring him home soon.
Two seconds later a response comes.
Devney: Thank God. Hurry please. I’ll let the police know.
I slip my phone back in my pocket and take a seat next to Austin. He looks up at me, eyes puffy from tears, and then he puts his head back down. I lean back, crossing my legs in front of me, and just let him come around.
After a few minutes and a lot of looking over at me, he speaks.
“You’re upset.”
“I’m not upset. I was terrified that something happened to you.”
He wipes his face. “Is Aunt Devney mad?”
“No, she’s not mad. She’s relieved you’re okay and probably upset, but I don’t think she’s mad.”
Austin sighs and then adjusts his leg.
