WAKE (Wattpad edition)

8. Trust.

{Cary}

Cary legs still felt like jelly after his shower—he'd pushed himself hard on the hill up out of the ravine, like he could outrun the poisonous cloud Jon was breathing into the air of their home. He changed and paced restlessly in his tiny room, unable to settle, but unwilling to leave. As long as Jon was home and Pete wasn't, his room felt like the only place he was allowed to be. He pulled his backpack out from under his bed, zipping it open before he was even conscious that it was in his hand. His fist tightened around the canvas, and he held still a moment, thinking.

If he could just get a break, a little space to breathe...

When he heard the front door open, he went out to meet Pete, his backpack over his shoulder. "I stayed the afternoon like you said." Cary met his eyes, his stomach squeezing. Pete was drawing himself up, like he would stop him from going out the door. The bruise on his cheekbone was red and tight. 

Cary dug his feet into the floor to hold his ground. "I gotta friend camping out. Just him. No drinking, no nothing." He darted a look over his shoulder—Jon was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyebrows lifted, his mouth twisting. He ducked his head, plowing on. "I want to go one night. I'm asking...please let me go."

Pete was standing there in his way, and he edged forward until he was close enough to see the rise and fall of his chest under his shirt. He said low, "Love you, Pete. Okay?" He lifted his eyes and saw Pete's face soften as he absorbed those words. He'd never said them before because it had taken him this long to figure out what Jon's dad meant when he said them to him. Cary tried to make his mouth smile, like he was okay. "I'll come back tomorrow. Just I can't..." He drew in his breath, unable to articulate what was wrong.

"Do you have your cell phone?" Pete's voice rumbled quiet and close.

He ducked his head in a nod.

"Call me if you need me—"

Jon's voice lashed out hard behind him. "Dad! Are you seriously letting him go? He just punched down a bus shelter and probably scared the shit out of everyone and now he just gets a night off with his friends?"

Cary's shoulders bunched with tension.

Pete lifted his head to speak past him. "Son, Cary's given me no reason to distrust him all the months he's stayed with us. He's not a prisoner—if he wants a night out, I see no reason not to give it to him."

"Seriously?" Jon's voice was high and tight. "Did you look in the mirror? You want to pick him up all beat to shit after he's messed up some other kid in an alley? 'Cause that's what's going to happen."

"Jon." There was force behind the word and Cary wanted to fold himself in a tiny ball and disappear. Pete was still right in front of him and he was caught in the crossfire between the two of them. "I won't tolerate this ugly attitude from you any longer. You stood there in the bathroom bleeding in the sink and you told me that was not what Cary is like. Remember? And I think if the past four months are any indication—you were right. I trust Cary with our girls same as I trust you."

"Like we're anything the same." Jon bit the words off. "There's no way you should be leaving the girls with him. No way!"

The hallway was still, like all the air had been sucked out of it. "I'm starting to wonder if I should be leaving the girls with you." Pete's words were soft, but heavy as stones. "You've been holding onto this grudge with so much hate and ignorance, I feel like I don't recognize my own son." Cary heard Jon make a small noise behind his white, pressed lips.

Pete didn't let up on him. "You have had enormous privileges in this family, Jon—and it's blinded you to your own shortcomings. You have such an inflated sense of your own goodness you can't see how hypocritical your behaviour has been this summer. I'm ashamed for you."