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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

When I step out of the Jeep, Carson is standing there with my suitcase and the crutches I never used. I offer to take something, but he insists on carrying it all to my room.

“Thanks for bringing my stuff in,” I say as Carson sets my suitcase by the closet. “And thanks again for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Need anything else?”

“Nope. I’m good. I’ll see you in class on Monday.” I just want Carson to leave so I can figure out what’s going on with Garret.

“Okay, see ya.”

When he’s gone, I phone Garret again. No answer. I send another text and wait for a response but I get nothing back. Then I call his dad who also doesn’t answer. I don’t know who else to call so I call their home number. The maid answers and says nobody’s home.

I run up to the second floor. I’m sure Garret’s not in his room. If he was, he would’ve answered his phone or sent me a text. But I figure I might as well rule out all the options.

His floor is quiet because people are still on spring break. I knock on his door several times but as expected, he doesn’t answer.

So he’s not at home. He’s not at school. Where the hell is he?

I check my phone again and still have no messages. As I’m walking back down the hall I hear a door open. I look back and see that it’s Garret’s door, so I run back.

“Garret, where have you—” I stop because I can’t believe what I’m seeing. He’s standing there in jeans and a wrinkled black t-shirt, holding a half-empty bottle of vodka.

“Hey,” he says, tipping the bottle up at me.

His hair is a mess and his normally bright blues eyes are glassy and distant. He reeks of alcohol and I notice three other bottles of liquor on his desk.

My chest gets heavy and tight and I’m only able to take short, shallow breaths. Time seems to slow as I try to process what I’m seeing. Try to make sense of it somehow.

“What is this?” I ask him. “What’s happening here? What are you doing?”

He walks slowly to the bed and slumps down on it, still holding his bottle.

I snatch it from him. He looks up briefly, but otherwise doesn’t seem to care.

“Tell me what’s going on here.” I set the bottle on the floor, then shake his shoulders to get his attention. “Garret, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“Sorry about what?” Tears are now streaming down my face. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know it’s bad. It’s really bad. “What happened? Why are you drinking?”

“I couldn’t deal with—” His eyes close.

“Couldn’t deal with what?” I shake him again, then stop because it might make him throw up. I sit next to him. “Garret, look at me.” His eyes slowly open. “Why are you drunk? Would you please say something? Anything?”

He puts his hand on my face, wiping the tears off my cheek. “Don’t cry, Jade. It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean? What’s your fault?”

He’s quiet again.

I’m exhausted from being awake all night, but I use every last bit of energy I have to stop crying and focus on figuring this out.

“Garret, you need to tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring the shit out of me. Please just talk to me.”

“I didn’t know about any of this. I swear.”

“Any of what? You’re not making any sense.”

His head drops down to his chest. “If I knew, I would’ve kept you away. I would’ve kept you out of this.”

“Kept me out of what?”

He lifts his head again and I can tell that he’s struggling with something he can’t express. Something painful. And it’s killing me to see him like this. All I want to do is help him, but I don’t know how. I don’t know what he needs. I don’t know how to make this better.

I reach over and hug him tightly against me because whenever he does it to me, it always makes me feel better. And although I don’t think it will help, I don’t know what else to do.

He doesn’t really hug me back but just wraps his arms loosely around my waist.

“I love you, Jade. More than anything. I love you.”

“I know you do. I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I slowly pull away from him. “What are you sorry for? What did you do?”

“They did it. I didn’t.”

“Who’s they? Your dad? Katherine?”

His head collapses on my shoulder. I push him up but his eyes are closed like he’s passed out. I lay him on the bed and call his dad again. No answer. Where the hell is his dad?

Maybe his dad is screening his calls and doesn’t want to talk to me. That would explain why he didn’t return any of my earlier calls. I spot Garret’s cell phone on the dresser and use it to call his dad.

Pearce answers on the first ring. “Garret, where are you? I’ve been looking all over town for you. Let’s just talk about this. We’ll figure something out.”

Figure what out? What is he talking about?

I hear Pearce’s voice again. “Garret, are you there?”

“It’s me, Mr. Kensington. Jade. I’m with Garret.”

There’s silence and I’m sure he’s going to hang up, but then he speaks. “Where is he?”

“He’s in his dorm room. He’s been drinking. A lot.”

More silence and then, “Put him on the phone.”

“He’s passed out.” I see Garret lying there and my stupid tears start flowing again. “Can you please tell me what’s going on? I just got back and found him like this. Yesterday morning he sent me a text when I was leaving Iowa. And that was it. No more texts. No phone calls. Nothing. And then I get here and he’s drunk. He never drinks, at least not since he met me. Something’s really wrong and I don’t know what to do. I don’t—”

“Jade, just calm down.”

“Calm down? Garret was fine when I talked to him Thursday night and now he’s passed out drunk! At 8:30 in the morning! What the hell happened? Before he passed out he kept saying he was sorry. Why is he sorry?”

“Just wait there with him. I’m in the car now. I’ll be there in 20 minutes to take him home.”

“You’re not even going to explain what’s going on here?”

“I’ll explain later.” He hangs up.

I set the phone down on Garret’s desk and pick up all the liquor bottles and take them down to the bathroom. It’s the guy’s bathroom but nobody’s in there. Even if a guy walks in I’m not leaving until this alcohol is gone.

I dump the vodka and the whiskey down the sink, turning my head to avoid the smell. But I can’t avoid it. It’s all around me and images of my childhood come flashing back.

This scene is all too familiar. Jade’s desperate attempt to get rid of the alcohol. I feel like I’m 6 years old again, dumping my mom’s vodka down the sink when she wasn’t looking, hoping it would make her stop drinking. It never did. She’d just hit me to punish me, then walk to the liquor store and buy more.

I toss the empty bottles in the trash and start dumping out a bottle of rum and another bottle of vodka. The rum smell is so strong it almost makes me vomit.

I go back to Garret’s room, grab a clean towel, and race down to the bathroom to soak it with cold water. When I return to his room, he’s still lying there passed out. I wipe the cold, wet towel over his face. It’s what I used to do for my mom when I was a little girl and wasn’t sure if she’d wake up after she passed out drunk. Sometimes it woke her up, sometimes it didn’t. And when it didn’t, it scared the crap out of me. I was sure she was dead. I know Garret’s not, but I still get that same panicked feeling seeing him lying there, not moving.

I fucking hate that Garret is making me do this! Making me relive the worst part of my life. Bringing back memories I try so hard to forget.

He wakes up a little and pushes the towel away. “Jade?” He squints like the light from the window is making his head hurt.

“Yes. It’s me. Let’s get you in a different shirt. This one smells really bad.” He slowly sits up and lifts his arms. I pull his shirt over his head and toss it on the floor, then grab a clean one from his drawer. He starts to fall over, but I hold him up and manage to get the clean shirt on him.

“Whatever’s going on here, we’ll get through it, Garret. This is nothing we can’t handle.” I’m saying it to him but it’s really more for myself. “We’ve been through worse things than this.”

“I’ll miss you, Jade.” His head falls forward onto my chest and his arms hug my waist. “I already do.”

“Why would you miss me? I’m right here.”

“Because it’s over,” he says softly.

“What’s over?”

“You have to go away.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.” I lean him up against the wall so I can get a bottle of water from the fridge. Keeping an eye on him, I quickly get the water, then sit next to him again.

“You need to drink some of this.” I hold the bottle to his lips and he tips his head back just slightly, hardly getting a drop in.

“Garret, sit up. Just take a few sips. It’ll make you feel better.”

He bolts upright and shoves the plastic bottle from my hand. It hits the floor, bouncing a few times and splattering water all over the place.

“What are you doing?” I reach to pick it up and he grabs my wrist so tight it hurts. “Garret, stop it!”

I pry my wrist from his hand and pick up the water bottle.

“Just go!” He yells it at me.

“Go where?” I yell it back, slamming the bottle down on his dresser. “I don’t understand you! What is going on here? Why are you acting this way?”

“They said if you don’t go they’ll—” He falls back against the wall, his head hitting it so hard it makes a thumping noise.

“You’re hurting yourself!” I race over and place myself next to him so his body doesn’t fall over. “Just hold still. Your dad will be here any minute.”

“I hate him,” he mumbles. “That bastard should’ve told me.” His head falls to the side, resting on my shoulder.

“Told you what? Did you have a fight? Is that what this is about?”

“He said he didn’t know, but he always fucking lies.”

“So he lied to you? About what?” I don’t know why I keep trying to have a conversation with him. He just keeps stringing together disconnected words and phrases that make no sense.

“I’m sorry.” He says it softly against my shoulder.

“Yeah, you said that already,” I say softly back.

We’re sitting on the bed, leaned up against the wall. I slip my hand in his and feel my heartbeat slowly return to normal. I stare straight ahead at the shelf above his desk, focusing on the spines of each book and saying the titles in my head to keep my mind off what’s happening. Fundamentals of Accounting. Microeconomics. Introductory Financial Analysis.

I read them again but my mind doesn’t even recognize the words. It’s like they’re in a foreign language. I give up and let my mind return to Garret.

He’s quiet and I feel like I should say something but I don’t know what to say. So instead I keep trying to figure out what might’ve happened. It sounds like he had a fight with his dad. But Garret wouldn’t get drunk over that. He fights with his dad all the time. Something else happened and it must’ve happened yesterday.

Garret adjusts himself on my shoulder. His breathing is slow and I assume he’s asleep, but then I feel him lightly rubbing the top of my hand with his thumb.

“I was going to marry you, Jade.”

Great. He says this when he’s completely wasted. Real romantic. And what’s with the past tense?

“If you get yourself cleaned up, maybe you still can marry me.” I gaze down at our hands, noticing how big his is and how small mine looks by comparison.

“No!” He sits up straight, ripping his hand from mine. “It’s over!” He yells it at me, then drops his voice to almost a whisper. “This is over.” The way he looks at me, it’s like he’s trying to tell me something. Trying to make me understand.

“Nothing’s over.” I reach for his hand again. “You’re just drunk and saying stuff you don’t mean.”

Suddenly the door whips open, slamming against the wall. Pearce storms in. “Garret, get up!” He goes over and yanks hard on Garret’s arm, pulling him up to standing.

“Stop it!” I hurry off the bed. “You’re hurting him!”

Pearce slings Garret’s arm over his shoulder and storms back out of the room, Garret’s feet half walking, half being dragged by his dad.

“Where are you taking him?” I follow them down the hall.

When we get to the stairs, his dad hoists Garret’s body over his shoulder like it weighs nothing at all and walks down the stairs.

“Are you going to answer me?” I yell at him.

“I’m taking him home,” Pearce says, his voice calm but stern.

“Then I’m going with you.”

We get to the bottom of the stairs and he stops and sets Garret down.

“My son got some bad news yesterday. We both did. And we need to figure this out as a family.”

Garret’s eyes close and he sinks into his dad, who then hoists him up again to a partially standing position.

“Please tell me what’s going on. Garret keeps telling me he’s sorry. Why is he saying that? What is he sorry about?” Here come my tears again.

Pearce sighs, a look of pity on his face. “I need you to listen to me. Don’t call him. Don’t text him. Don’t try to come to the house. I’m sorry, Jade, but this is how it has to be. I truly am sorry. You’re a nice girl and I wish you the best.”

I hear his words, but they’re not registering with me. My attention remains on Garret, who’s now standing on his own a little more but still out of it.

“Will he be coming back here?” I ask Pearce.

“Yes. But I’m afraid you won’t. You need to leave Moorhurst. I won’t be funding your education anymore. You have today and tomorrow to pack up your things. I’ll have them shipped back to Iowa for you. You’ll be flying home Monday morning. I’ll get you a plane ticket and have it delivered here. My driver will take you to the airport. I talked with Dr. Cunningham and he’ll be stopping by later to check on you to make sure you’re okay to fly.”

My brain is finally getting what he’s saying but I don’t believe it. This can’t be happening. My legs give out and I sink down on the stairs.

“Jade?” I hear Garret’s voice and feel his hand touch my shoulder. I grab hold of it and find the strength to stand up again and face his father.

“No! You can’t take him away from me! Not again! I won’t let you. I love him. You can send me home, but we’ll still find a way to be together.”

“That’s not going to happen. I’m sorry, Jade.” He yanks Garret up again, tearing his hand from mine. He walks out the door to the parking lot with me right behind.

“Garret’s not going to just let me go. He loves me.”

“Yes. He does. And that’s why you need to leave.” Pearce stops and opens the passenger side door of his shiny black Mercedes.

“What? I don’t understand.”

He puts Garret in the car, shuts the door, and walks to the driver’s side.

“Why are you doing this?” I scream it at him, but he pays no attention as he gets in the car.

There’s a clicking sound as the doors lock, followed by the sound of the engine starting up. As Pearce backs up, I see Garret leaned against the window, his eyes now closed.

The car speeds off down the road.

And Garret is gone.

I think I might be hyperventilating. I can’t seem to get enough air in my lungs. My legs don’t want to move, but I manage to make it back to my room.

My phone rings and I practically rip the pocket of my jeans getting it out. I don’t know why I’m racing to answer it. It’s not like Garret’s calling me. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jade. It’s Harper.” Her voice sounds so happy I almost can’t stand to listen to it. I’m sure she’s having a great time with Sean, a normal guy who probably has a normal family who will never force him to break up with Harper. “Sorry I couldn’t call sooner, but Sean and I had to go to this party last night with my parents. Anyway, are you back at school yet?”

“Yeah, I’m back.”

She keeps talking but it all sounds mumbled. I can’t concentrate on anything she’s saying.

“Jade? Are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“Well, aren’t you excited?”

“About what?”

“About the condo on the beach. Garret said he reserved yours and Sean and I got ours so we’re all set. This is going to be the greatest summer.” She pauses as she waits for me to agree. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Harper, I have to go. I feel kind of sick from the car ride. Can we talk later?”

“Sure. Sean and I are on our way to the airport, but I’ll call you quick before I get on the plane. And when I get back tonight I’m staying over at Sean’s so I probably won’t see you until Sunday night.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I say, trying to hurry her off the phone.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better. Oh, and I got you something for our summer on the beach. I’ll show it to you tomorrow. Bye!”

“Bye.” I shove my phone back in my pocket. There’s not going to be a summer on the beach. And I don’t know why because nobody will tell me.

I need to talk to someone about this, but there’s nobody I can talk to. I can’t call Frank or Ryan. They have no idea what I’ve been through with Garret’s family. I get my phone out again and text Ryan to tell him I made it to Moorhurst so he won’t call me.

I collapse on my bed and replay in my mind all the scenes from last semester when Mr. Kensington kept trying to break Garret and me apart. Is that what he was doing today? But why? He acted like he liked me, like he’d finally accepted me. He let me stay at his house. He got me a car. He was nice to me. So did Katherine make him do it?

My shock, sadness, and confusion quickly turn to pure rage. Mr. Kensington can’t do this to me. He can’t take Garret from me again. And neither can Katherine. I won’t let either one of them take away what Garret and I have together.

I search my desk drawer for my laundry money and stuff the bills in my wallet. Then I look up the number of a taxi company and call them to come pick me up. If Mr. Kensington won’t take me to his house, I’ll go there myself. I have to see Garret.

The taxi arrives and when I tell the driver my destination, he says it will be $70 for the half hour ride. I dig in my wallet and count the bills. I only have $75 and that money was supposed to last me for months.

When I arrive at Garret’s house, there’s a line of photographers and teen girls all along the street. The taxi driver drops me off and I give him the entire $75 to include the tip.

Now I’m stranded here. If Mr. Kensington doesn’t let me in, I’ll be camping out for the rest of the day with Garret’s fans. At night they’ll all go home and I’ll freeze to death. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea.

I walk up to the gate and press the button. Brad, one of the security guys, answers. He’s a good guy. I’ve talked to him many times. His wife runs a day care center and they have twin girls who are Lilly’s age. He’s shown me photos of them.

“We don’t allow people on the premises,” he says. “Please stay—”

“Brad, it’s Jade. I need to speak to Mr. Kensington. Can you let me in?”

I hear him mumble something to another guard. “I’m sorry. We can’t let you in.”

“What? Why not? Brad, it’s me. You know me.”

“I know, but . . .” He sounds like he really wants to let me in and yet the gate remains closed.

“But what? Just open the gate.”

“I can’t. We’ve been ordered to not let you through.”

“By who? Katherine? Mr. Kensington?”

He clears his throat. “No. By Garret.”