Page 59 of Lost Boy

Hunter leans back and sighs. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he says, “Well, shit, you’re growing a human, and Watson is a fucking husband. Everything is changing.”

A few days after telling me, Watson told Hunter that he was married, and Hunter was absolutely dumbfounded. I couldn’t blame him; it’s a lot to take in.

Slowly, I smile, nodding my head. “I guess it is.”

18

Cade

Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve been in this place. It’s far from hell, but I wish I could be anywhere else. This isn’t like the last rehab I went to, which felt more like an old folks’ home, only with piss tests and lots oflet’s talk about your feelingspeople in it.

This place is called Jace’s Tomorrow, and it was started by a couple who had lost their son to drugs. Instead of being inside all day, we actually have to work around the property. Mowing the lawns—and not with riding mowers either. No, we’ve got ones that are like the first push mower ever invented. Lugging huge rocks to line the driveway. Cutting and dragging trees and brush, among other things. It makes for long days. I don’t mind though. It’s when I’m in idle mode that the demons living in my brain catch up with me.

The last program I did was only a month. This one … is three. Well, for me, it is anyway. Some people come for less time, some more.

Three months in here with a bunch of people I don’t have a whole lot in common with sounds terrible. But this place also has horses. And surprisingly enough, taking care of them has been one of my favorite things to do, ever since I felt good enough to do anything after the first week.

I can’t imagine the kind of money my parents had to come up with to get me in a place like this. And they did it, and I know they didn’t think twice.

My nights often consist of a certain angel haunting my dreams with her sad eyes. In the dream, Haley is trying to reach for me, like she needs me. But just when I pull her toward me, I wake up. I wonder how she’s doing and if she’s thought of me since I’ve been gone. Fuck, her life is probably easier without my constant hot and cold attitude when it comes to her.

After showering quickly, I throw on my clothes and head toward Buck’s office. I don’t actually know what Buck’s real name is. All I know is, he was hooked on drugs, living on the streets, and stealing from his parents, and he somehow got clean and wound up being a counselor here. I like him because unlike the counselors at the last place I was in, he actually knows what it’s like to feel like you have no control over your life. To feel trapped in this tiny little hell, wanting to get out, but not knowing if you have what it takes to be able to.

I knock, and he tells me to come in.

With a big beard and a handful of tattoos, he doesn’t look like your typical man for the job. But he’s been sober for twenty-one years, so I’m not sure who else would be better at it.

“What’s up, Cade man?” He grins, and I close the door behind me. “How did cleaning up the horse shit go?”

“Fucking smelly.” I laugh, sitting down on the plush, large chair. “I swear that Beauty is more pregnant than y’all think. Her stomach is growin’, dude.”

“Could be,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ll have the vet come check her out.” Sitting back in his chair, he puts his hands on the back of his head. “So, two weeks in. How do you feel?”

“Not puking anymore, so that’s good,” I say, trying to keep it light because that’s just what I do. “And the night sweats haven’t been so bad the past few nights. I was getting tired of waking up, thinking I’d pissed myself. That’s hard on the ol’ self-esteem. So, I call that a plus.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “So, you get to make a phone call today. If you want to, that is.”

I think for a moment. An image of my mother gripping the phone tightly, waiting for it to ring, flashes in my brain. She knows I’m safe, but she’ll still worry until she hears my voice. That much I know.

And then I think about how sad her voice will make me. She’ll try to sound happy, but deep down, she’ll be broken up inside when her grown-ass son calls and tells her about his pathetic day. The selfish part of me doesn’t want to call. That’s the same part that has shut out each and every feeling as much as possible since I came out of withdrawal. Because let’s face it … when you’re going through that motherfucker, you can’t help but feeleverything.

I vaguely remember all the thoughts running through my head. I begged for Eli to come down from heaven and somehow make it better. And then I cried for the one person I wanted to hold because I knew having her body near me would dull the pain even if only a little bit.

Haley. God, I miss seeing that girl’s face to start my morning. I miss her mismatched socks, baggy sweats, and sweet smile. And those eyes that looked at me with such wonder while I spoke. Like what came out of my mouth actually fucking mattered even if I knew deep down that it didn’t. She looked atme in a way no one else ever had. Like I was the sky and she was stargazing.

“Cade?” Buck’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “You good, man?”

Pulling myself from the land of Haley, I nod. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll call my parents.” I sigh. “I’m sure they’ve been waiting to hear from me.”

“What about you?” he asks, eyeing me over, but not in a way that makes me feel like I’m being observed. More like he genuinely wants to know. “Have you been waiting to call them?”

“Yeah,” I say, but it sounds more like an echo. “Of course.”

“You don’t have to bullshit me, you know.” He shrugs. “Remember what I told you. There’s no point in trying to blow smoke up my ass. Just be straight with me, and I’ll never judge you. Never.”

I put my hand up to my mouth and chew the sides of my nails nervously. “Mom’s going to tell me she’s proud of me,” I mutter.

“Well, that’s because she is,” he says matter-of-factly.