**Yeah. I’ll be over in a minute.**
I panicked about what to tell my parents. Should I tell them I was going to Holly’s to study? Then they’d expect me to take the car. I worried they might go somewhere and see it parked in Hayes’s driveway. Should I tell them I was going for a walk? That wouldn’t give me much time, and it would definitely throw up red flags as it wasn’t something I normally did.
Shit.
I slipped on my flip-flops and found my parents watching television in the living room.
“Uh,” I said, my voice shaking, sure my parents could see right through me. “I’m gonna go hang out with Hayes for a bit. I think his mom is home from the doctor and he needs someone to talk to.” I held my breath, waiting for the inquisition that was surely coming my way.
“Okay, sweetie,” my dad said, not even turning to look at me.
“Let me know if Chelsea needs anything, okay? Hayes too. Give them my love.” At least my mom looked at me when she spoke.
Was it really going to be this easy?
“Okay, I’ll call you if they need anything I can’t help them with.”
And that was it. I opened the door and walked to Hayes’s house, just as I had one million times since I’d been old enough to make the trip alone.
It had never felt like this though.
I’d never been anxious, edgy, and excited all at the same time to see a boy. As I walked I tried to keep the goofy grin off my face, tried to remind myself that he’d had a rough couple of days—weeks really—and he needed me to be his support system, not necessarily his make-out partner. I pulled my hair up into a high bun, hoping I looked casually cool, as though I didn’t put any thought into the way I looked before I left the house—which was a lie.
I knocked on his door, holding my breath, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
When he answered the door, all the air swooshed out of me, and I fell back down, flat on my feet.
He looked awful. Tired. Worn down. Sad.
Instinct had my arms around him instantly.
“You’re here,” he said softly as his arms slid around my waist.
“Of course I’m here.”
After a moment long enough to give me a chance to take in his scent, something spicy and woodsy at the same time, he pulled away. “Come in.”
The house was mostly dark aside from a lamp on a side table in the living room and the light above the stove. Everything else was dark and quiet.
“How’s your mom?” I followed Hayes to the couch, sitting next to him, waiting for his answer.
“Sleeping.” He leaned back, bringing his clasped hands behind his head, looking to the ceiling. “The doctor prescribed her some stronger sleeping pills, but pretty much told her he’d only give her thirty, and that to get more she’d have to go back.” His hands dropped to his lap and he looked over at me. “I think he’s worried she’s trying to sleep through her grief.”
“Is that bad?”
“I don’t think it’s good, but I also don’t think it would be good for her to be fully here right now either. She’s a mess when she’s awake.”
“I’m sorry if this is insensitive, and I’m only asking because I don’t actually know, but doesn’t she have to go back to work? She’s been home for a month now.”
Hayes leaned his head back on the couch, but still kept his eyes on mine, not looking one bit offended by my question.
“There was a clause in my father’s life insurance that paid off the mortgage when he died. That, along with the rest of the insurance money, means my mom doesn’t have to go back to work for a very long time.”
I thought about Mrs. Wallace, sitting in her house, all paid off, all alone, no job to go to, with no husband and no Cory. Suddenly, tears filled my eyes. “That’s a terrible trade-off.” The words were hardly out of my mouth before he’d pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, bringing me close.
“I agree,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to my temple.
“How are you even functioning, Hayes? How are you making it through every day without losing your mind?” The question might have sounded a little flippant, but it was legitimate. He seemed to be the opposite of his mother: trudging through each day, working hard, keeping his mind occupied, but was he just pushing grief aside as well? I pulled away just a little, wiping the one tear that had escaped, and looked at him, hoping for a genuine answer.
“Honestly?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah,” I said with a breath.