Page 102 of You Had Me At Thirteen

‘Wait. What?’ Wren would never leave his mother’s side if something happened to her. ‘Where is he?’ My stomach knots as a hot flush spreads over my skin, making me itchy.

‘Carla came in with Deb. She told me they had a massive fight and Wren took off. He won’t answer his phone and no-one knows where he is. We thought maybe you would?’

‘So he doesn’t know his mum is in hospital? Jesus. But… I might know where he is. I’ll get dressed.’ God, I hope he’s okay.

‘Okay, honey.’ Mum pats my thigh, but doesn’t make a move to get up. She continues to stare at my wall, her eyes wet, void of their usual brightness.

‘What is it?’

She rests her head on my shoulder when I wrap my arm around her.

‘Nothing. It’s just… It’s hard watching someone fade away like that. Wren must be devastated. I’m just glad he has you.’

With tears in my eyes, I squeeze my arms tighter around Mum’s shoulders. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my mum cry, and I know she uses work to keep busy, so she doesn’t need to think about all the shit going on in her life. But this is different. It’s closer to home. At least it is for me. Wren’s mum has become a big part of my life since Wren and I have been together, and I wonder if Mum is feeling the same. She’s seen Deb a lot since her diagnosis, coming in and out of the hospital. I’ve been so caught up in my own life that I haven’t stopped to see how she’s doing.

Mum sits back and wipes her eyes before plastering on her everything-is-fine smile. ‘Go,’ she says. ‘Go find Wren.’

I nod, then dress as fast as I can. Wrapping my cardigan around my body, I race downstairs and into the cool morning light. Dew glitters over the blades of grass, turning them silver. I’d find it beautiful, if the morning wasn’t so tragic.

Carla is packing some stuff into her car as I approach her in the driveway. She glances up, giving me a view of her tear-stained face. ‘Hey Til, I suppose you heard?’

‘Yeah, what happened? How’s Deb?’

‘She’s okay, stable, which is good. Wren stormed out of here last night after an argument. I’ve tried calling him, but he won’t answer me. Deb had a turn after he left. She’s worried sick…’ She sucks in a sob, holding her stomach as she slides down the door of her car.

I kneel beside her and rub her back. ‘I’ll find him, Carls, I promise. You stay with Deb.’

I hate seeing her tears. We’ve become connected over the last couple of days since I found out I’m an idiot and she’s Wren’s cousin. She’s just as awesome as Wren described her.

She wipes her nose as she tries to smile. It’s only slight, but she manages something. ‘Thanks, Til. Please make sure he’s okay.’

‘I will.’ I kiss the top of her head then race back home to grab my mum’s car keys.

The first place I think of is the lookout, considering Wren’s car isn’t here, so with my fingers crossed, I head out of town.

Please be there, baby.

The minutes pass by, my heart hammering in my chest until I pull onto the dirt road that leads up to the lookout. The air isn’t as fresh as I remember from last time, and the trees seem lifeless. Even the birds sound sad.

When I see Wren’s car, I speed up, the tyres skidding as I come to an abrupt stop. The car is barely in park before I jump out and race towards Wren’s, pounding on the windows as I peer into the dark tint. But, I can’t see him.

God, he hasn’t jumped has he? No, no, no. He wouldn’t do that.

Panic sets in as my breathing speeds up, my heart feeling like it’s beating way too fast. Sweat covers my body, so I yank off my cardigan and throw it on the bonnet of Wren’s car.

I press my fingers into my eye sockets, my body shaking with nervous energy, and head up towards the lookout spot, glancing over the edge of the railing. Even if Wren had done something stupid, there’s no way I’d see anything through the fog, or below the thickness of the forest.

When I turn to my right, my tears about to spill over my bottom lashes and onto my cheeks, I notice a long pair of legs sticking out from behind a large boulder I hadn’t noticed the last time I was here.

Wren?

Christ. He’s out cold, his chin on his chest, his arms hanging limp over his thighs.

I kneel next to him and rub one of his arms, his skin cold from being out here, I assume, all night. ‘Wren?’ I say, using my best soothing voice.

His eyes flutter open, glossing over the moment he sees me, but he doesn’t move as he blinks away the tears.

I take his hand. ‘Are you okay?’

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