Page 85 of Wristlocked
Gale?
We need to talk.
Not in a scary way.
Please.
Please answer me.
We’re getting worried.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Nothing. No response to either Gia’s or my texts, and we’ve been searching the campus for the better part of an hour. Gia’s eyes are starting to go wide and frightened, but I’m getting pissed. I should have dragged him home with me and made Jo sit on him while I talked Gia off the ledge. I keep seeing him slumped against the studio wall—the look of resignation in his eyes when I left him.
“We’re too late,” Gia says. “I should have stayed and made him fight it out. That’s the way we work. Shit.Shit.”
We’re leaning against the main gym in the cold courtyard. It’s past eleven now, and all the buildings are dark, only the orange glow of the exit signs lighting the vast spaces where we spend our days. The covered walkways around the quad are lit, but it only makes the shadows press darker at the edges, and everything feels eerie and empty.
“We can trade blame all night. It won’t help us find him.” I sigh. “Anyway, he’s the one who disappeared and won’t answer his goddamn phone.” Yep. Pissed.
“I didn’t exactly give him a reason to wait around.”
“Igave him a reason.” My voice bounces off the tall buildings, echoing around the otherwise silent courtyard as anger overtakes my panic. “He couldn’t even keep it together for two fucking hours?”
“Where would he even go? It’s not like he knows anyone in Vegas outside the school.”
I’ve already tracked down all his old posse, while Gia went to Ren and Vaya and Jules. No one has seen him. I have to force my body still, when I want to scream at the sky and bang my head against the stucco wall at my back.When did he become something Ineeded?
I remember the night it started to shift, when we went out into the city to search for Jamie, and the things we had in common started to fill up the spaces keeping us apart. I can hear the sound he made that first time I touched him and feel the back of his neck under my fingertips. I clench my fists and try not to shake.
His eyes in the mirror. Asking me if Gia would hate the haircut. I think that was the true beginning, that glimpse of vulnerability that came from being trapped between Gia and Celeste. Watching him take his first rebellious step toward choosing something different, and how it scared him even more than the hospital at Foxhole.
Everything that came after? That made it real. Made him ours. How the fuck could he not feel it? How could he think she’d actually let it go?
He thinks he let us down, the way he let Jamie down.As soon as the thought comes, I know it’s thetruth.
“He doesn’t believe he deserves to be forgiven,” I say, pushing off the wall and looking back at Gia. “Where would he go if he’d given up?”
We stare at each other.
“Celeste.” It’s a hiss, and I latch on to her rising fury, so much better than her hopelessness or my impotent panic.
“There’s no way she’s still in her office,” I grumble. “Do you know where she lives?” It’s a futile question. I know Gale kept the two of them as far apart as possible.
“No. But I know someone who does.” She starts walking toward the parking lot, punching the contact and putting her phone on speaker.
“It’s me again. Sorry to wake you up.”
“Gia?” Chloe’s voice has the husky-but-alert quality all moms get when their kid calls in the middle of the night. I’ve heard it from mine on more than one occasion.
“I need some help.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at school, but I need to get to Celeste’s house. Do you still have her address from that party last summer?”
“I believe so.” I hear a rustling, followed by the quiet murmur of Chloe telling Guy it’s okay. “Why are you going to Celeste’s?” She doesn’t add “at this hour,” but the question is there in her voice.
