Page 50 of I Hear You

I sob into my hands more. I’m angry at Henry, I’m angry at whoever the hell this Gary guy is for giving me zero information. I’m actually worried about my mom. I’m more than overwhelmed.

I jump up and pull out my backpack, shoving my laptop and some clean clothes into it. Taking my suitcase seems like too much of a hassle. Taylor is typing on her phone, but she sets it on her nightstand and walks over to me.

“Here, let me pack for you. You sit down.”

She takes my backpack from me and nudges me toward a chair. I sit reluctantly as she packs my toiletries for me.

“Taylor, I’ve never bought a plane ticket before and I’m not sure I know how. Shit. I’ve never even been on an airplane. Where is the nearest airport? Can I just buy a ticket at the counter?” I say through sobs I’m still struggling to control.

There’s a sudden, very loud knock on our door. Startled, I flinch. I don’t move to answer the door because moving seems like a lot of effort since I sat down. Taylor doesn’t move either. I look at her and she has a worried look on her face.

Bang. Bang. Bang.More loud knocking, followed by a familiar voice only slightly muffled by the door.

“Taylor, open the fucking door.”

Taylor and I both jump and look to our door, where the yelling just came from.

“Madison, I’m sorry, I had to,” Taylor says, moving to open the door.

She looks terrified, her eyes are glossy. I’m scared she might cry and even more scared of why she might cry. What did she do? Taylor opens the door to our room. Henry comes charging in as soon as Taylor’s out of the way. Or is it Ender coming through the door? Before my brain can even process anything, he’s to me and has me wrapped in his arms. Pressing his mouth to my ear.

“I am so fucking sorry, Mads. I promise, I will tell you absolutely everything. I will answer every question you have, but for right now just please, please let me help you.”

I’m just standing here like a limp noodle, my arms hanging at my sides, trying to process what’s happening. I can’t deny it feels good to be standing here in his arms and I’m desperate to ask a million questions. In a moment of clarity, I realize I know, deep down, I can still trust him.

Slowly, I bring my hands up and wrap them around his waist.

Hugging him back, I whisper, "okay".

Henry releases his arms around me but brings them up to my face, cupping my cheeks. He brings his forehead down to mine and just breathes for several moments.

“Emmett just texted. He says everything will be ready by the time you get there.”

I had almost forgotten Taylor was even in the room. Henry and I separate and she’s standing there holding my backpack. He takes it from her and starts to leave.

“I’ll be downstairs. My truck is right outside waiting,” Henry says, slinging my backpack over his shoulder.

He gives Taylor a quick hug. I hear him tell her, thank you, before he leaves our room.

I turn to Taylor now and she has tears bubbling in her eyes.

“Please don’t be mad at me. I knew you needed help, and I knew he would help,” she says, not quite meeting my eyes.

“Taylor, it's okay, really. But how exactly is he helping?” I ask, a little confused.

“Just go with him Mads, he’s gonna help you get to your mom. Henry is a good guy Madison, but you already know that. And I think you already know you can trust him.”

I nod and Taylor moves to hug me and we hug just a little too tight.

“Thank you,” I say before releasing her.

My body is on autopilot. I’m not in control as I leave the dorm room, walk down the four flights of stairs and out to the parking lot. Henry is standing at the open passenger door of his truck parked along the curb. I get in without saying a word and he shuts the door behind me. He drives away and I don’t even ask questions. I’m assuming he's taking me to the airport, but I don’t even know where the airport is in this town, so I couldn’t say for sure.

We’ve been driving for about ten minutes when we come to a red light. My head is leaning up against the window, tears I have no control over are still slowly dripping onto my jeans. Henry unbuckles my seatbelt from his side of the truck.

“Scoot over,” he says.

I look at him, not understanding.

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