WAKE (Wattpad edition)

44. That word.

Soundtrack: 'Little lion man' - Mumford and sons.

{Jon}

In the following days, the fog of opioid desire lifted, and Jon felt like he could think clearly for the first time in weeks. He became aware of Cary's watchful presence, keeping him in sight at all times. The weight of his friend's care steadied him, and he left his cuts alone. It helped that almost every hour of daylight was spent sweating in Tru's garden or banging together a new fence.

He couldn't completely avoid the sharp edge of the unfinished business between him and Kurtis Klassen. Since Cary had picked him up and told him he'd been in a fight, Jon had been picking at what he didn't know—picking at the thought that Kurt had been the one to tell his father and the youth group that he was in treatment. He'd tried to forget it, to leave it, to beat the feeling back by telling himself he wouldn't like what he learned, but eventually he was going to need to settle it.

By Thursday afternoon, the fence was complete. Jon's back was damp with sweat, and there was a splinter jammed into his palm as he walked back to the house with Cary. The couple of days left here before he returned to Eastglen school felt alarmingly short, and he couldn't live with not knowing any longer.

"Cary?"

Cary glanced sideways at him, a foot on the step of Tru's sagging front porch.

"Can I borrow your phone?"

"What for?"

"I just want to call home."

Cary drew his phone out of his pocket without any questions, like Jon had thought he would. He poked the screen to open it and handed it to Jon, checking his face with a flick of his dark eyes.

Jon turned aside and thumbed in the number.

"Kurtis Klassen." The greeting was brisk, sounding like the grown up he almost was. Jon realized this number would have come up as an unknown caller. There was music and laughter in the background.

"It's me—Jon," he said. He sank onto the last step, his heart beating in his throat.

"Hey." It was a different voice—quiet, more uncertain. There was an abrupt rustling and the sound of a door opening and closing. The background noise was gone. "White—what's up? Treatment going okay? I've been trying to reach your phone."

Jon drew his knees up and closed his eyes, picturing Kurt leaning against the siding exterior of his garage, his hair flopping over his forehead, pressing the phone to his ear with his long fingers. "Sorry—I left it behind when I checked out. I'm with Cary for the week."

There was an abrupt silence. "So what's up with you and that Douglas guy?" Kurtis' voice was careful. "Should I be jealous?"

Jon's nose stung and he rubbed his fingers against it. It was a joke. The only safe thing was to assume it was a joke. It wasn't the first time Kurtis had teased him like they were—more than friends. When no one was listening. He wished he could tease him back and keep this light, like they had before. Not knowing was hurting too much. "Did you tell other people I was in treatment?" His voice cracked. "At the church?"

Kurtis' voice sharpened. "At the church. No. I don't trust people there; you know that."

Jon clenched his hand against his shivering stomach. "How did your brother know then? And your dad? My dad is in trouble because someone told the Elders board."

"The way I hear it, your dad is in trouble for a whole lot of reasons."

The deflection stung sharply. Jon's voice roughened with anger. "Kurt. Don't give me the garbage your dad is saying. Fucking tell me the truth. I just need to know who it was."