WAKE (Wattpad edition)

34. Road trip.

{Cary}

Jon seemed to relax as the sun swung low on the horizon, grain fields wide on either side. Cary was grateful he had someone to help keep him awake; he had one energy drink in him and another tucked beside him in the door. The caffeine in the drinks made his anxiety jump a notch, but he wanted to keep his eyes open and stay on the road as long as possible.

Jon had a bag of poppy seeds in his lap, dropping them in his mouth by the fingerful, his feet splayed up on the dash. He told Cary wry, hilarious stories that made rehab seem not half bad, and it was like old times.

"Does your phone have data?" Jon asked. "There's this podcast Kadee likes I want to show you."

Cary unlocked his phone and handed it to him.

"She's super into crime shows—did you know that?"

Cary darted him a sideways glance. "We didn't talk about it," he said. It felt weird to be talking about this now, to have someone share a part of his life that had felt so private. Hell, when Jon was out of the picture, his whole life felt isolated and unknown. He had forgotten what it was like to have a friend who paid attention to the ordinary little things that mattered to him.

"So there's this podcast," Jon said. "It's like old radio, like a live murder mystery with voices and music and stuff. She got me into it and I want to know how it ends." He was scrolling through his phone apps to find the one he wanted. "We used to listen to it while we gamed when we were at her place. Have you been to her house?"

Cary shook his head. His throat tightened thinking about Kadee saying, Maybe I'll just wait for you, Cary Douglas. It would have been better if he'd just left without seeing her at all, or ended it clean and final. He already missed the sound of her voice.

Jon took a moment to consider Cary. "Her parents are cool—don't be intimidated by their money and whatever."

Cary made a dry noise. "It's not their money. People know me in that neighborhood."

Jon shrugged a shoulder. "They don't really. They think they know Kadee too. Did you see that picture of her? Photoshopped or whatever—but it got around."

"I don't need to see it," Cary said.

Jon focussed on his phone again, stabbing the screen with his thumb. "Well, whatever. I just want you to know I'm cool—with you and her." His face was a little pink. "I figured out I don't like Kadee—like that. You're both my friends. And her basement is super cool; we should hang out there sometime when I'm clean."

Cary was silent—this wasn't exactly something connected to a reality he could imagine, but he guessed it was helping Jon to talk about something good that would come after. A future he could picture himself in, healthy again.

"Um. It's gonna take a minute to download; the connection is kinda sketchy out here." Jon peered into the dark. "Where are we going, anyways?"

"A farm, I think." Cary checked the time. "Five hours away."

"And who's there? You said some family?"

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "I think so. I looked her up online. My mom's sister. If it's not her—" there was an empty drop inside him at the thought. "I'll bring you back and stay at the shelter for a bit. I guess."

Jon paused, looking at him. "You're not sure? You didn't like—call ahead?"

"What am I going to say on the phone?" Exhaustion made his voice flat. "Hey, I think I'm your nephew? And I kinda got kicked out of my last two places so—can I come live with you?" He made a dry laughing noise, but it wasn't funny. "I want to see her and check if it's even the person I think I remember. Everything's all fucking holes and fragments from then, and I was, like, six. So I don't know." He rubbed his hand over his aching chest.

Jon nudged his arm with his shoulder. "Hey—that's okay, Cary. Don't stress about it. I'm just glad to be out of the city and, like, talking with you again."

Cary shot him a glance and saw that Jon had his eyes down, digging in his bag of seeds, like he wasn't aware of what he'd just done.

"You talk more than you used to," Jon remarked while he chewed, lifting his eyes to the fading horizon. "I like it. And I think it's cool that maybe we're going to find you more family."

Cary cracked the second energy drink, taking a cold, bitter swig.

"I guess you didn't talk to your mom about her?"

Cary shook his head.

Jon patted the dashboard of the car. "Pretty sweet birthday present. This mean things are good between you?"

"No," Cary said quietly. He felt like he was open in so many places and Jon was getting inside again, looking around, taking it all in. He stretched his shoulders back, feeling the pull of the cuts on his arm and the stiff ache of his bruises. "She gave it to me to ask me to stop the trial. Which I can't. So she's..." His mind blanked on the words, remembering her trying to hide her shattered face as she got up from the table to go. "It didn't go good," he managed. "She left me at the restaurant with all our food on the table."

"Oh, shit," Jon said softly, watching him.

"That's the day I started crying again." His voice had roughened and he cleared his throat, rubbing the edge of the bruise on his face to try and keep alert. "Your mom just hugged me and did her mom thing when I got home—and made me cry some more. Feelings suck."

Jon's face was shadowed and he looked forward again. "Where the hell was I when this all happened?" he muttered. "Jesus." He slid a little lower in his seat, wrapping his arms across his chest.

Cary was silent. If he said anything about that out loud, he thought it might open a hole too painful for him or Jon to handle right now. The weeks after Jon had ended their friendship had been so dark he'd quit turning his lamp off at night, and asked Mel to put all the knives and sharps somewhere he couldn't find them. The only time he'd felt warm and okay was when he was on a roof in the summer heat, slamming the hammer. That job had probably saved his life. All he'd been able to do in his off hours was draw until his hand cramped, and watch cartoons with Bea, buried in stuffies and blankets, flinching when Jon passed the open doorway.

The sun had slid below the horizon, leaving a pool of red and gold light on the rolling fields in the west. The first star pricked the soft indigo sky and Jon's face was lit with the light from Cary's phone screen.

"Here, we'll start at the beginning," Jon said in a subdued voice. "So you can catch up."

While the story spun out of Cary's phone speaker, Jon fell asleep, balled up against the door with his head bent at an awkward angle. Cary reached into the back seat for his sweater and tried to shove it under his friend's cheek so he could sleep more comfortably. Jon made a soft sound in his throat and pulled his arms closer to himself. Cary quieted his phone and said into the darkness of the car as he drove, "You're okay, Jon. You're good."

*We've turned a corner on this story, lovelies. How do you feel about Cary taking Jon with him on this road trip into the unknown? What might be good for Jon about this? How have you seen their friendship change from the first book, HIDING, to now?*