Page 77 of Hurricane Love

“Not much. Haven’t been able to go to the store.”

“And sleep. How’s that been?”

“Bad,” Wylie said with a sniffle, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. Even more concerning was the fact that he was completely alone up there without a friend in the world, not even someone who could stop by and check on him.

“Okay,” Diego said, taking charge for Wylie’s sake. “This is what you’re going to do now. First, go pour yourself a glass of water and drink it. I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do it.”

Diego heard the sounds of a chair squeaking, a fridge opening and shutting, and a glass of water being poured. He waited asWylie did as he was told. “Okay,” he said listlessly when he came back on the phone.

“Did you drink all of it?” Diego asked.

“Yeah,” Wylie said and that was it. The long stretches of silence were unnerving to Diego, another signal that Wylie wasnotokay.

“Do you have any food in the house? Anything at all?” Diego asked.

“Some bread and butter, I think.”

Diego wondered how long he’d been living off of just that, but he didn’t ask. One thing at a time. “I want you to eat a butter sandwich and then lie down in bed for an hour or so. You don’t have to fall asleep, but I want you to lie down, okay?” Diego said.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I have a few things to do here, but I’m going to call you back in a little bit, and I want you to answer if you’re still awake. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Wylie said, sounding somewhat relieved.

“All right, then, sit tight, and I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Diego?” Wylie said, sounding both pitiful and dejected.

“Yeah?”

“I really miss you.”

Diego’s heart felt like it was cracking open, concern and love for this man just pouring out and puddling there on the floor. Why had he been so stubborn? Why had he made this so hard? “Me too, sweetheart. I really miss you too.”

Diego hated to hang up the phone, but he had to make some calls. First, to his probation officer to get the required permission to leave the county. That went surprisingly well–the good rapport he’d built with Officer Watson had clearly paid off. His second call was to Nancy to let her know what was going on, and his third, to Hannah, to see if she could get his shifts covered for the next few days.

Diego was done with running away from what he wanted, he was heading straight toward it, praying he wasn't already too late.

CHAPTER 17

WYLIE

Wylie wasn’t doing too well.He had the wherewithal to know that. His mental health was in the shitter and his physical health was on its way there. He hadn’t been taking care of himself, too busy with studying and writing papers and completing long-ass reading assignments that made his head hurt and his vision blur. He never missed a class, but even his academics were slipping as the other areas of his life fell apart.

Of course he hadn’t wanted to let on how bad it had gotten, but Diego had caught him in a weak moment, and he didn’t have the energy to pretend he was okay. He wasnotokay.

He’d followed Diego’s instructions, drank a glass of water and ate a butter sandwich, which had quieted his stomach and helped calm his shaky hands. But even with his hunger abated, his mind still raced with the deadlines that loomed: a paper by midnight, an analysis due tomorrow morning, and a test tomorrow afternoon on material that he’d only briefly skimmed.

He was going to failallhis classes. And then he started to think about all the people who’d supported him over the years and how he’d be disappointing them, not to mention the student loans that were going to be a bitch to pay off without the lawdegree to earn a decent living. He’d made a huge gamble on himself and he was losing. He was a loser.

He couldn’t sleep, another part of the problem. He’d shut his eyes and the darkness would only heighten the sound of his thundering heart and racing thoughts. He could only lay there and recount all of the mistakes he was making and the inevitable conclusion, his failure, which ended with him alone in the darkness, unloved and forgotten.

He missed his mom. He missed her all the time, but in moments like these, the grief felt fresh, as if it had only happened yesterday. The loss of her overwhelmed him, and he felt like he was drowning in pain and unable to claw his way to the surface. The ache was as physical as it was emotional. He needed her to hug him and tell him it was going to be all right, to hype him up the way that she used to, reminding him of his positive qualities to an exaggerated extent, then taking him to Sonic for a cheeseburger and cherry limeade.

“What is the most handsome, most brilliant, most talented boy going to do now?”she would ask him, green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I don’t know,” Wylie wailed into the empty room, the hollow echo of it paining him even more.