Page 9 of Hale

I can only take so much guilt for one day.

“Want to go for breakfast?” Jada asks as she sits up and rubs at her neck. In the broad daylight, I can see she’s not as pretty as Amy. Not that I ever thought she was.

God, I’m so stupid.

“Nah, I have a class in an hour,” I say as I turn the engine over. “I’ll run you home, though.”

She buckles her seatbelt and regards me with kind eyes. “Last night was just a stress reliever, Hudson. Don’t ruin your life over it. You should probably try to unpack some of that stress more often. I’m always here if you need help.” She winks at me, insinuating she’s always down for a blow job.

“Thanks,” I grit out as I drive away from the lake.

The entire ride to her apartment, she tells me of her family and other things I don’t actually hear. I nod politely and answer when asked questions. And when I finally drop her off, all I do is wave. When she’s long gone, I pull my phone out and plug it into the charger. As soon as it comes to life, I see I have missed texts and calls from everyone.

My heart sinks.

Last time that happened, I learned my parents fucking died.

Amy: We can Facetime. I’ll show you my boobs.

Amy: You really did go to bed.

Amy: I love you.

I scrub at my face and growl. I’m such a fucking idiot. All the texts on my phone are from last night. While I was getting my dick sucked by some random girl.

Rylie: You don’t understand. They hate me.

Rylie: Did you listen to that song I sent you? Reminds me of Dad.

Rylie: Mom and Dad used to take us to Lake of the Ozarks each summer. Will we still go or did all our traditions die with them?

Rylie: I was looking through some boxes in Aunt Becky’s basement. I found the one with Mom and Dad’s wedding pictures. You look just like her.

Rylie: It hurts, Hudson. It fucking hurts.

Rylie: I miss you.

Rylie: Fuck you too.

Not only did I cheat on my girlfriend, but I let my sister down too when she needed someone to talk to.

Aunt Becky: Can you call me when you get a chance?

Aunt Becky: I caught your sister smoking pot in the basement.

Aunt Becky: She is out of control. Call me.

I’m overwhelmed this morning, but I dial my aunt anyway. She answers on the first ring.

“Hudson,” she greets, her voice icy.

“Hey, Aunt Becky.”

“Will you please talk some sense into her? Randy and I can’t get through to her. She threw her phone at the living room mirror. I’ll be vacuuming glass out of the couch for weeks now. Weeks, Hudson. And if she thinks I’m buying her another phone, she has another thing coming.”

My phone buzzes and I grit my teeth. “What do you want me to do, Aunt Becky?”

“Here,” she blurts out. “Talk to her.”