Page 111 of Things I Wish I Said
Hell, he almost killed himself.
“Fine,” I say once I can speak again without strangling him. “I’ll take you home then.”
“Not home. My mom . . .” He shakes his head while I worry my lower lip with my teeth.
I stand there a moment, debating what I should do. “Okay, then. I’ll take you to my place.”
This must appease him because he closes his eyes once more, which is the opposite of what I need because he’s yet to get inside my car.
I need to get him the hell out of here in case someone drives by and stops or the cops show up.
I reach inside the car, dodging the branch and cupping his face in my hands. “Grayson!”
This time he moans, so I lift his arm and slide beneath it while I wrap my other one around his side. “Come on. I need you to help me get you in my car. It’s not far, but you need to move, Grayson. Can you do that for me, Slugger?”
I ignore the whimper of pain that escapes his parted lips as he starts to move.
His left leg slides out of the car before he pauses, his breathing labored. “My other foot. It’s stuck.”
I sink to my knees, sliding my phone from my pocket for some light while I try not to panic. The undercarriage is damaged and it’s wedged under a big piece of plastic, but after a few minutes of jostling, he’s free.
Once Grayson is on his feet, he leans most of his weight on me as we slowly amble toward my car while I rattle off a string of encouragement. With every foot we gain, my lungs burn until I fall against the side of my car, and somehow manage to help him down onto the passenger seat.
Out of breath and exhausted, I round the car and make the drive back to my house, worried a concussion is to blame for his drowsiness and not booze.
By the time I pull into my driveway, I realize I hadn’t thought this through because I have no idea how to get him inside without waking my mother up.
I try shaking him and calling his name, but all I get is a soft moan.
I contemplate letting him sleep it off in the car when I decide that’s not a great idea on the off chance my mother wakes and finds him here. That and I’d like to monitor him through the night to ensure he’s okay.
Glancing around me for something that might help, I spot an old water bottle. Uncapping the lid, I mutter an apology under my breath as I splash the cool liquid all over his face.
He starts awake, his arms fling out in front of him.
“Easy, Slugger. I need you to climb through my bedroom window, so my mom won’t see.”
He nods, or at least it’s some approximation of a nod, so I slide out of the car and fling his door open. Much like before, he leans against me while I support his weight, careful to shut the car door quietly so as not to alert my mother.
We make our way over the lawn and to the side of my small ranch, and for once, I’m grateful it’s so tiny because it makes it lot more accessible.
I lean Grayson against the faded siding and remove the screen of my bedroom window, grateful I like to sleep with it open.
When I spin back around, he’s folded like a pretzel, slumped on the ground.
“Man, do you owe me,” I mutter as I coax and prod him back to his feet.
Panting and out of breath, I take a minute to regroup, praying for strength before I shove his upper body against the open window frame, thanking God for his height, then use my legs and body weight to hoist his lower half upward until gravity takes him and he tumbles inside and onto my bed with a moan.
“Sorry,” I mutter, bending at the waist to catch my breath.
My lungs feel like they’re on fire, so I wait for the flames to extinguish before I follow behind him. Sweat slides down my back as I manage to squeeze myself through the small space with him in my way, then sit on the side of my bed, staring at him while my thoughts race.
I want to know why he got shitfaced, then sat behind the wheel of a car, but it doesn’t look like I’ll get answers until morning.
As gently as I can, I rearrange his massive body, so he’s a little less contorted and seemingly in a comfortable position.
His shirt rides up when I fix his arms, and I catch a glimpse of his bare abdomen and hiss. A massive black-and-blue bruise is already spreading in a swatch of color across his lower abdomen from his seat belt.
