Cruel Summer | ✓

chapter eleven

The ten minutes it takes for my phone to reach five percent are probably the slowest of my life so far. Each one is torture, my hands restless, my heart racing at at least a hundred and twenty beats per minute. I've been a lowkey anxious person ever since I turned eighteen and real life slapped me in the face, but this is something else. I think I might be having an actual panic attack: I'm hot and my chest hurts, such an acute pain that at first I think it's a heart attack, and my head throbs, my breaths short and shallow. I curl my hands into fists and try to fill my lungs; I take a counterintuitive sip of my latte and close my eyes, my knuckles kneading my temples.

My cell phone eventually comes to life. As it connects to the network, missed calls and voicemails and texts flood in. I bypass them all to call Mom for the first time in weeks, my hand trembling as I hold the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Mom? It's me."

"Charlie! Thank god." Her voice explodes out of the phone, loud enough to deafen. "Oh my god, you're okay. What the hell is going on, Charlie? I've spent half the morning on the phone with hotel staff and the police in Fisher. I told them they must be mistaken because you're in Austin, but then I spoke to Cole and Taelin and apparently you're not."

"No, I'm not. I'm in Fisher. Last minute vacation," I say, picking at the hem of my shorts. Mom is loud enough that people around me in the cafe can hear her through the phone and they're looking my way. "I'm sorry if you got scared — there was a storm and my hotel room kind of got ruined by a tree and my phone died and no-one could reach me so they called you but, yeah, I, uh, I never told you that I'm here."

"No, you didn't." Mom sighs. "You're okay, though, aren't you? You're not hurt?"

"I'm fine, I promise."

"Where were you, then? Whoever I spoke to said the hotel was evacuated at four thirty this morning and they couldn't find you."

"Remember Lou? From the cabin next door?"

"Of course."

"I had dinner with her and her friends last night, ended up staying over."

"Thank god for that. I need to send that woman flowers or cookies or something." Her laugh comes out strangled. It takes me a moment to realize she's crying. Oh god. I don't know what to do when people cry. Especially my mom. "You had me terrified. You know how awful it is to get a call from the police in another state about your daughter being missing in a storm?"

I pull one heel onto the chair and wrap my arm around my knee, leaning against the wall. "I'm so sorry, Mom."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not blaming you. I'm just glad you're all right. God, Charlie, it's been one hell of a stressful morning. I was this close to driving to the airport and getting on the first flight to Boise."

"You probably would've ended up spending half the day in Denver." I try to make it come out lighthearted but it doesn't land. There's a long pause.

"What're you doing in Fisher, hon?" Mom's voice is soft and low. The one she uses when she's trying to coax the truth out of one of us. It does the trick. The whole story pours out of me as I chew my thumbnail and drink my coffee. I'm vulnerable right now, my emotions a raw layer above my skin, and I don't have the energy for subterfuge.

"Charlie, baby, I'm sorry if I haven't been clear with you — to be honest, there's still a lot of stuff I'm working on — but you are always welcome with me. I know it isn't home and I know you hate that I'm in Rapid City and everything's weird at the moment, but I have space for any of you who need to come be with me."