Back to Bryan
It’s after 10, why isn’t he home? I leave his crappy room and head back out to my car. The last time he was left this is where he had come so I figured he might be here. But he isn’t. I texted him again, [please let me know you are okay]
He does not respond, so I dial again. He does not pick up again. I grip my phone tightly and growl, kicking and fisting the air, irritated that he is not answering. I’m panicking. Is it his father this time? Did something happen after school? Was he in trouble somewhere?
God, I scratch my scalp- it’s his father, I know it.
Inside my car, I think back to when he thought I was sleeping and he was weeping. I hit the steering wheel before I take a deep breath and drive home. I don’t know where else to look. I’ve checked the hospital, parks, b
