Page 116 of Withered

I pick up my phone from the table, and the notification says it all. I open the text right away, and relief washes over me as I read the words.

Jake:I’m busy at the practice, so I can’t call you. I’ll see you when I get home.

I take a nap and wake up around 6 p.m. I take a look outside my window and see Jake’s windows closed; even the lights are off, which only means he isn’t home. I join my parents for dinner, but my appetite is gone.

I excuse myself after dinner and wait in my bedroom for Jake to arrive. My parents have certainly sensed that something is wrong with me. I don’t recall the last time I acted this weird.

I pace around my room and flop on my bed, staring at the ceiling, but there’s still no sign of Jake. The practice should have been done by now. Maybe I should call Jake and ask him where he is. But wouldn’t that sound too desperate?

Tyler comes to mind, and I find myself dialing his number. He picks up on the second ring.

“Rose?” Tyler greets.

“Hey, Tyler,” I reply.

“Yo, what’s up?” He asks, and I hear car honks on the other side.

“Do you know where Jake is?” I ask him.

“Jake? Uh-” Tyler pauses, and a knot forms in the pit of my stomach at the possibility of what might come next. He goes on, “He must be on his way back home.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, thank him, and then hang up. I pass the time by reading a book while waiting for him. I got so engrossed in the book that I don't notice the time. My phone reads ten minutes to nine, and there’s still no sign of Jake.Where is he?

I call him, and he picks up.

“Hey.” I wasn’t expecting him to pick up.

“Hey,” he replies, and his voice is exhausted.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, concerned. I don’t even try to hide it. He should know by now that I care about him.

“Yeah. I’m on my way. See you in ten minutes.”

“Okay.” I hang up after that.

I wait in my room for a few minutes before hearing his car’s tires screech and stop. Dad has already left, and Mom is in her room, so I make my way downstairs like a thief on the run.

As I descend the stairs, I get a text on my phone. I squint at the brightness as I open it.

Jake:Where are you? You’re in your room, right?

I quickly type a reply.

Me:Are you in your room?

Jake:Yep.

I slap my forehead and climb upstairs back to my room. And here I was expecting to see him in front of my door.

I see Jake’s shadow in my room and hear some unusual noises. I get close to the window and see Jake leaning against it, his eyes closed, and the noises make sense. He’s hissing and grunting. He’s hurt again.

“Jake,” I call him.

He gently opens his eyes and says, “Rose.”

“What happened to you? I thought you were at practice.” I notice some bruises and a cut on his lip.

“I was. Uh, I… I got into a fight with someone.” He doesn’t meet my eyes.

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