Page 55 of Crash into me
“Let’s go.” I try to pull him up.
“I’m okay, Freckles.”
He’s worried about me, not letting himself open up. “Foster, I know you were excited about the baby. It’s okay to be upset.”
“I know … I just.” He looks away. “I’m going to go home.”
“Foster.” He looks at me. “We’re in this together.”
He looks around, making sure it’s just us.
He leans into me, grabbing my shirt, and for the first time since I met him, I see Foster Jennings breaking down, sobbing.
“I’m just so sad and it has nothing to do with that bitch.” He sniffles, trying to make me feel better when he’s breaking. “It’s just that … I’m an orphan, and the thought of having more … creating a family … and again nothing to do with Envy, but my daughter …” He pauses, realizing she never existed.
I run my hand through his hair. “Shh, Foster. It’s okay to be upset,” I soothe him, but nothing’s working. “We are your family.” I gesture to the fading taillights of the friends who granted us a moment alone. “We make our own way.”
“I hate that bitch.” His voice is raspy, lost. He curls into my arms. “I love you so much, Skyler”
I kiss his head. “I love you too, Foster.”
25
Last night was terrible. Foster is broken. I’m just so thankful that now the truth is out and I can be there for him.
Thunder crackles overhead, and worry creeps inside me as it intensifies over the day. I’m so scared of Foster being in the wrong mindset and racing tonight.
Those were my thoughts all day at school.
He races, he risks his life. He doesn’t race, the Keeper looms in the shadows and again he risks his life.
Warren helped with Sophie’s medical bills; she’s completely taken care of.
But now we’re in deep water again.
It’s like the moment we break through the dark and see the light of day, someone puts their foot on our heads and sinks us back under the water.
Luckily, the distraction we needed is coming home tonight.
Sophie.
We’ve spent all day preparing his grandma’s house with candy and decorations. She spent her recovery in the hospital, and I know that must have sucked for her, so I wanted to make her homecoming special.
“Did you pick up the cake?” I ask Foster when he walks through the door with bags of snacks.
He sets it down on the counter, side eying it. “I thought it was the wrong one, but the baker insisted this is what you asked for.”
“Oh no.” I take one look at the cake and realize I must have messed up the directions to the baker terribly.
I asked for a get-well cake, but what we got is a horror scene.
A distorted Elsa stares back at us with beady red eyes. What was supposed to be written in ‘Ice’ is in red as well, looking like she slayed Olaf and wrote ‘Get well soon, Sophie.’ At least the dress is blue.
“Throw it out.” I cringe, laughing at just how bad it is.
Foster dips his finger in the icing, “Still taste good.” He shrugs. “But you ordered from the worst bakery in town.”
“Oh.” I nod. “Can we fix it?”