Page 66 of The Wreckage of Us

Of course, she had to be scared. How could she not be?

When my thoughts became too loud and every terrifying thought passed through my mind, I built up enough courage to take myself to my old neighborhood and to knock on Garrett’s door.

I wore one of Ian’s oversize hoodies and had the hood up. I’d been sleeping in his hoodies each night since he left. I liked how they still smelled like him. It almost felt as if he were there with me each night.

My eyes kept darting around the trailer park with hopes that no one would notice me being there. Garrett’s past words kept playing in my head.

You know what happens to snitches?

When he came to the door, he grumbled as he pushed the screen open. A cigarette hung from between his lips, and he huffed out a cloud of smoke. “You got a lot of fucking nerve coming over here,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t think of what else to do. I’ve been trying to get in contact with my mom, but she won’t reply to any of my letters. I’m not allowed to go visit anymore, and I’m worried about her.”

“Oh yeah? You’re worried about the mother you got locked up? How fucking thoughtful of you,” he sarcastically remarked, blowing more smoke directly into my face. He looked wrecked—as if he’d been using more than normal. When we were together, he’d never looked as strung out as his current state. He’d lost a lot of weight, it seemed, seeing as how his jeans were sitting so low against his hip bones. Had he been eating? Was he taking an inch of care of himself?

I swallowed hard and did my best to push the thought away.

Not my concern anymore.

I grimaced. “I just want to know that she’s all right. Have you been in contact with her?”

“Like I’d ever tell you shit.”

“Please, Garrett,” I pleaded. I wasn’t above begging. I needed answers to the questions shooting through my head day in and day out. “I only want to know that the baby is okay and what will happen when it’s delivered, since I don’t know if Charlie is going to be out of prison to take care of it. Do you know any of that, Garrett? Do you know anything?”

Garrett gave me a smirk that sent unnerving chills down my spine. “Maybe I do.”

“Please,” I begged again. I sounded so desperate, but I didn’t care. If he wanted me to drop to my knees in front of his freaking trailer, I’d do it and grovel at his shoes.

“You need to get the hell out of here before I let people know you’re back around these parts,” he threatened, making my chest tighten with fear.

I took a step back. “Okay. But please ... can you just make sure the baby is okay? I know you hate me, and I can’t blame you for that. I hate myself enough for the both of us. But if you care anything about that child, please make sure it ends up cared for. You know what it’s like growing up in these parts, Garrett. You were luckier, because your mom is actually a good mom, but you know the lives that most of the kids in these parts grow into. You know the world I grew up in. This child deserves more than that. It deserves more.”

I left it at that and started walking away.

“Hazel.” The sound of my name made me turn around. Garrett stood tall, still smoking that cigarette that was dangling between his lips. “It’s a girl.”

A small breath fell from me as a wave of emotions rushed through me. “I know. She told me.”

He put his cigarette out on his railing and tossed it toward the graveled road. “She hates being pregnant, and fuck, it looks like it’s doing a number on her, but she’s all right. My ma and I went to see her last week.”

“Does she need anything? Money? Supplies? Lip balm?” I blurted out, my heart racing faster and faster each second.

He shrugged. “Everybody needs that shit. If you want, you can drop it off to me in two weeks, when Ma and I go visit her again. And Ma’s going to take in the baby for the time being.”

Sadie was taking in the baby.

The baby girl.

My little sister.

That was good. Sadie had her fair share of flaws, but being a bad mother wasn’t one of them. I remembered being young and wishing my mom did some of the things Sadie had done for Garrett. Taking him to the park. Driving out to go on movie dates. Buying him Christmas gifts every single year. It might’ve been iffy how she got the money to do all of those things, but every cent she’d ever had went to that child.

So much comfort fell over me knowing those details.

“I’ll bring the stuff in two weeks. Thank you, Garrett.”

“Whatever. Get lost, will you?” he said, reaching into his cigarette pack and pulling out another one to light up. “I’m tired of seeing your fucking face.”