“Maybe it’ll be okay,” Ryan says, coming up beside me. “The police will call his parents and they’ll work something out. Community service, maybe.”
There are no parents to answer. I imagine Shane sitting in lockup, waiting for them to realize nobody will ever come for him. And my heart’s a white ball of fire in my chest. He threw away his second chance for me, and I’m not worth it. I dissolve in Ryan’s arms, crying for Shane like I never could for myself.
“Hey, we’ll figure something out,” he says, stroking my back.
“It’s not fixable. He’s gone.”
“That’s not like you.”
“And you don’t know the whole story.” With a shuddering breath, I pull back, unwilling to tell Ryan that Shane’s mom passed away and that his dad’s abandoned him.
Eventually, the school staff herds us back to class, though we’ve missed the whole period after lunch. It’s bittersweet but Shane accomplished what he intended. People aren’t looking at me anymore. I’m pretty sure they’ve forgotten the reason he pounded the shit out of Dylan. Now Shane getting arrested is all anyone can talk about. And I wish it wasn’t true.
I’m a zombie in my afternoon classes. For the first time in two years, I leave without putting a Post-it on somebody’s locker. I refuse to believe anyone at JFK’s having a worse day than me anyway.
Shane is.
I call in sick at work and pedal straight to my aunt’s shop. There are a couple of women looking at hand-poured candles, but Aunt Gabby seems pleased to see me as I don’t stop by very often, then she gets a good look at my face.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells the customers, then she takes me in back. “What happened?”
I tell her in a single breath, so fast that some of the words come out on top of each other. Then I finish, “Is there anything we can do? It wasn’t his fault.”
My aunt sighs. “Oh, honey. While I agree that kid had it coming, the courts won’t see it that way. And Shane made the choice to resolve the problem with violence.”
“But we have to try. Please.”
“His dad will handle it.”
“No, he won’t,” I say furiously. There’s no point in keeping the secret anymore, so I tell her that, too. My voice sounds bitter and angry, as I explain what an asshole Shane’s dad is.
“So he’s been living on his own since he got here?” she asks, incredulous.
“Basically. Which means he’s on his own. Can we please try?”
Pushing out a breath, Aunt Gabby nods. “I’ll call the station and see what I can find out. But, Sage, it wasn’t okay to keep this quiet for him. He would’ve been better off with people who would take care of him.”
“That’s not what he wanted,” I say stubbornly. “You don’t know everything.”
“Then maybe you should tell me.” She’s frowning over all the stuff I’ve kept from her.
Before I can, however, the ladies in front call out, “We’re ready, Gabby!”
“Be right there.” She points at a stool. “Sit. I’ll be back. This conversation isn’t over.”
Because I’m too tired to do otherwise, I plop down and wait for my aunt. The back room of the shop is delightful chaos with sweet-smelling candles in the process of being packaged up, shimmering crystals with purported healing properties, silk flowers, and bundles of dried herbs. I can see why my aunt enjoys working here.
Soon, she returns, folding her arms to show me she’s not happy. “So … spill.”
I explain about Shane’s mom and how he spent years looking after her. “He doesn’t feel like a kid anymore, and he hated the idea of being stuck with strangers. After everything he’s been through, was it really so wrong for him to want some peace?”
“That poor boy,” she says softly. “I don’t know what kind of record he brought with him from Michigan City, but I’ll call the station right now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Half an hour later, my aunt sighs, her shoulders rounded in disappointment. I already know she has bad news. “I tried, Sage. But I’m not his guardian, and apparently, he has a list of offenses.”