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Idk what to do.
I’m so upset. I knew this would happen.
Jade, can you call me back??
?????????
I’m so lost.
He’s gone.
Jade please call me…
16
JADE
“One sees more devils than vast hell can hold . . .”Act V, Scene 1
“Jade? Jade, are you okay?”
I think Ian is talking to me, because that’s his voice, but there’s concern in it, and when I look up and see that it is in fact Ian, there’s also worry in his eyes. I’m on the ground, but I was just standing? Now I’m sitting on the pavement, and even though my jacket feels too tight, I’m too cold to take it off. The ground is cold too, a chill seeping in through my jeans. Ian is crouching next to me, his dad hovering behind him. Far behind both of them, the sounds of a football game echo into the parking lot.
I don’t remember how I got to the ground. I just remember a series of text messages from my mother and the crushing realization that I need to go home right this second, but that my car is in the shop and I have no idea how I’m going to get there. It was too overwhelming for a minute, and I think I just needed to sit.
So I did. And I guess that’s how I ended up here.
“I have to . . . My mom . . . I have to go home, but my car is . . . Fuck.”
“What? Is your mom okay?”
“No. No, she’s not. She just got dumped.” I show him my phone screen—the messages from my mom. “I have to get home.”
“You should go,” Ian says.
“My car still isn’t working. I haven’t taken it in.”
My eyes meet Ian’s, and whatever happened between us earlier is gone. In this moment he’s zeroing in on me, not on whatever happened ten minutes ago.
“How far do you live from here?” Ian’s dad asks.
“Like, two hours,” I say.
Ian and his dad look at each other, and there’s some unspoken conversation that happens between them. Ian’s dad gives him a small but firm nod.
“I’ll take you,” Ian says. “Do you need to stop by your apartment first?”
“Yes,” I say. I didn’t even think of that. I’m laser-focused on getting to my mom before something bad happens. But I’ll be gone a few days and I’ll need a few things.
The first few hours are the scariest after my mom goes through a breakup. The first few days are the most precarious. If she makes it through the first day without doing anything irresponsible, stupid, or dangerous, there’s about a fifty percent chance she’ll be okay. The following three or four days are less concerning, and after the first week, if nothing has happened, she’ll usually be okay. There have been a couple of exceptions, but this is the pattern.
So right now, every second is precious, and I let Ian help me up. His dad hugs me and then Ian. I barely feel it. I think I saygoodbye, but minutes after walking away, I don’t remember if I did.
The next few hours are like a movie montage. Ian walking me to my apartment. Ian helping me pack a bag. Changing into clothes I wore earlier in the week because they’re the easiest thing to get to. Riding in the car in near silence with Ian for two hours, with just music to fill the silence. The orange and purple of the setting sun painting a sky too beautiful for whatever awaits me at my childhood home. And all the while, my thoughts circle.
I have to get home. I have to get home. I have to get home.
Ian pulls into the driveway. It’s already dark, and there’s no porch light on.
