Page 71 of Delinquents Turned Fugitives
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Gray leftme panting on the stairs, probably hoping that I’d forget about revenge. That just made me laugh, because if he believed that, it was awfully naive of him.
But my laughter was interrupted by a phone call. I pulled out the burner I’d been assigned but didn’t see one of my guy’s stupid nicknames. I saw Tia’s name. Surprise rolled through me. Gray hadn’t told me that he’d given her my number.
But just seeing her name made dread pool in my stomach and burn my throat. I didn’t want to answer her call.I’d rather have to run eight more miles under Lundy’s watchful eyes.I’d rather have faced off against Callum again. But I really didn’t have a choice. She was doing me a favor.
I swiped to answer.
“Hey.” It was hard to talk around the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat as Mom’s face, cold and pale blue under the sheet at the coroner’s office, flashed through my mind. I had to remind myself to breathe.
“Hey Hales, how are you?” Tia gave a normal greeting but then rushed to add, “That’s stupid. I shouldn’t have asked that. Forget I said it.”
I forced a smile and then words to go with it. “Don’t go get all awkward on me,” I retorted, my heart picking up just a bit at the sound of her voice. “I can’t handle that.”
“Sorry. No. Not sorry.Whatever,bitch. You stomp those feelings and sweep them under the rug or I will shave your head. Is that better?”
I chuckled at her attempt to play Queen Bee, the knot in my throat loosening. “You’re the worst at this.”
“Well, you’re the worst at staying in school, abandoning your friends to chase after hot guys … so we’ve all got our flaws.”
“Yours are worse,” I quipped. “Your no hugging rule is the worst flaw—”
“People do not wash their hands,” she snapped. “What about your little obsessive scribbling in your notebooks? I could hardly ever get you to gossip with me in class because you were always so busy writing shit—probably about Grayson, but still.”
If only she knew what I’d been writing about. All kinds of Pinnacle plans. Those days felt a million years away even though it had only been a few months. I rubbed at my forehead, trying to prevent an onslaught of nostalgia and stay focused on the present moment—on teasing Tia. “Yeah? What about your weird inability to drink regular coffee? You have to add ice cubes? Or your refusal to part your hair on the left side even though it looks so cute that way? Huge flaw.”
“Quirks. I prefer quirks.”
“I miss you,” I told her, my heart swelling.
“Well, you’ll see me soon. Three days,” she responded. “That’s when I have everything set up.”
Suddenly, the lump was back in my throat. The crack in the beige wall across from me on the stairwell blurred. I blinked hard, struggling to push back the mist in my eyes that threatened to turn into a flood. Mom’s funeral. She was talking about Mom’s funeral. “Oh.” That was all I could get out.
“It’s going to be an outdoor ceremony at the cemetery since the weather’s nice. I got it set up right next to where your dad is …” Tia trailed off, unable to disguise the pity in her voice.
Tears won out. I had to swallow a sob. Only when I thought it was contained, did I gruffly say, “Thanks, T.”
“Of course. I considered hiring a marching band to play just to annoy your mom in the great beyond … but I took the mature route instead.”
I cracked a smile but wasn’t in control of myself enough to speak. I could just picture Mom’s dismay at some gaudy display. She would have shaken her head, hands on her hips, cheeks flaming. She would have been fighting a smile, but still, she never liked to have us make a big deal out of her. Tia’s idea was perfect. And it broke me.
We stayed on the line even though the silence stretched out between us. I wasn’t quite ready to let her go because if I did, I might collapse. It felt like the Big Bang was happening inside of my chest—a massive explosion that would change the future forever. It didn’t make sense, because Mom had already died. But my grief didn’t heed reason, my heart didn’t recognize past or present. They just knew it hurt. Time and logic ceased for a minute as my body struggled to contain this wide, black expanse of grief and stars that spread through me. I slid down the wall and sat on the stairs, staring down at the landing but not really seeing it.
The voices of the guys, so lighthearted, full of banter, drifted up to me.
For a moment, I just wished I was someone else.
Someone who didn’t have to feel this.
But then I sucker punched my feelings. Fuck that. I let my hands grow dark with shadows and filled my eyes with dancing onyx ribbons, let a dark cloud drift across my mind. For a split second, everything went black. It was like hitting the reset button. Getting caught in my shadows was like getting dragged under water and running out of oxygen. My body surged up out of the grief, gasping for air—for light.
I opened my eyes. And I was in control again. For now, at least.
I sucked in a deep breath then asked the absolute minimum number of questions necessary about the funeral. I got the time and information about where to park before I disconnected with Tia. I kept it short and clipped, not wanting anything else to trigger me.
Afterward, I marched to the bathroom and rinsed off my tear-stained face. Then I decided that I might as well get it over with. Since the day had taken a terrible turn, it was best to get all of the wretched emotional outbursts out of the way at once. It was time to walk across the hot coals, step into the fire, and tell the truth.
