I nod and the truck falls silent again. When I finally see the hospital on the horizon, I release a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. “I need to call and get Aubree situated because I’m sure we’re going to be here for a while.” By the time Wilder gets my truck parked, runs inside the emergency room, and returns with a wheelchair, I’ve got Aubree covered. I make a mental note to get my mom a spa day soon for helping out with Aubree so much lately. I’m sitting in the wheelchair, letting Wilder push me through the parking lot of the emergency room when I start to feel self-conscious and regret this decision even more. “Stop!”
“What?” Wilder asks, as he pulls the wheelchair to a halt in the middle of the parking lot. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t need to be wheeled inside here like this. This is ridiculous. This whole situation is ridiculous,” I tell him, as I start to get out of the wheelchair.
I feel his hands on my shoulders as he pushes me back to sit down. “Don’t even think about it. Man, we’re already here so just stop fighting all of this and let it go. Stop being so damn prideful. Make sure your ankle is okay.”
“Wilder,” I groan.
“Think about Aubree. It’s going to be that much harder being a single dad if you damage that ankle more than necessary,” Wilder tells me.
I sigh and slump back into the wheelchair. I know he’s right if I damage my ankle because I’m stubborn or too prideful to go into the emergency room. I’ve heard the horror stories of people having to have surgery from stuff like this, and I can’t afford that, not with my type of work and definitely not being a single dad to an energetic three-year-old. “Okay, let’s get this shit over with.”
Thirteen
Zoey
The day keeps playing over in my mind as I lie in Drake’s bed staring at the ceiling. I can’t help but feel those butterflies when I’m around him even though he’s definitely made it more than clear that he’s not interested in me. I can’t turn it off, but I will learn how to deal with it. Another thing nagging at my mind is Drake’s reaction to asking if his parents had another child. I mean, what other conclusion is there to draw from that pic? She had Drake’s eyes and Axell’s hair. I don’t know why it seemed to bother him so much. I sigh and turn over to face the wall when my cell phone begins to ring. I groan figuring it’s Gregg, yet again. Rolling back over, I reach over to the nightstand and pull my phone to my face. An unknown number dances on the screen and the unease settles into the pit of my stomach.
What if it’s Gregg using someone else’s phone so I will answer? What if it’s one of the businesses I applied at today calling for an interview? I sit up and make a quick decision and hope for the best. I desperately need a job, so I literally can’t afford to not answer this phone call just in case it is about one of my applications. I slide my finger across the screen. “Hello,” I say into the phone, as I bring it up to my ear.
“Hello, I’m trying to reach a Zoey Hechler. This is Seth Rogers with Surf’s Up,” a male voice comes through the other end of the line.
I release the breath I had been holding. “This is Zoey.”
“Oh great. I saw your application on my desk when I got back and I was wondering if you’d be interested in a part time sales position. I don’t know how much experience you have with surfing gear but we can teach you,” he says.
“No, that’d be great! I’m completely interested. I actually used to surf. I’m originally from this area, so actually surfing was something I did all the time. It’s been a while but I do still remember most of the stuff. I’m sure some of the brands and what not have changed but your store was always the best in town.” I don’t want him to think I’m trying to suck up but Surf’s Up was the store I used for my supplies. He always had the friendliest staff and the biggest selection for a home owned shop. “I know how that probably sounds but I promise I’m not sucking up or anything like that.”
Seth chuckles. “Don’t worry about it. I appreciate that compliment. I take a great amount of pride in my shop so I really do love hearing that. So, I was wondering if you could come in for an interview tomorrow around one?”
“Yes, I’ll be there. Do I just ask for you or is there someone else I’m interviewing with?”
“Nope, just come to the front counter and ask for me. It’s possible that I’ll be there already, but just in case,” he explains.
I nod my head enthusiastically before realizing that he couldn’t see my response. “Yes, sounds great. I’ll be there.”
“Great, see you then, Zoey.” The call disconnects and I fall back onto the mattress and squeal in delight. I’m excited for the first time in what feels like forever. The last time I remember feeling this excited was the night I met Drake. I sigh. It’s funny how everything always comes back to him. I don’t know why I didn’t notice that years ago, back when I was actually part of his life. I guess that’s why they say hindsight is twenty, twenty.
Knocking on my door manages to break through the music currently drowning out my thoughts. I shouldn’t say knocking because I know it’s Zayde, who will be beyond irritated at the moment, and he’s banging with all his strength on the metal door. I walk over and open it. He looks at me and he knows by the look in my eyes that the breakdown is on the horizon or maybe it’s the fact that Third Eye Blind is blaring through my speakers, my go-to band in these moments of freefalling.
Zayde is tall and lean with deep brown eyes that have flecks of golden amber throughout. His dark brown hair is in the current emo style, too long in my opinion. He places his hands on my shoulders to move me slightly out of the doorway. He walks into my room and over to my stereo before turning it off completely. Zayde turns back around and meets my eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
I shake my head. “Like that would do any good. It’s just a temporary fix to a permanent problem. I need to get out of here. He hates me and it makes me hate myself. My mind is on the verge of the slip Z.” I hated admitting that but it was true. I could feel myself, my emotional state slipping farther and farther into the dark abyss. I was drowning in the self-hate my father created within me.
“Don’t ever say that!” Zayde was fuming and I couldn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, I’d feel the same way. “We don’t have to stay here too much longer. We just have to stay out of his way until we can get our own place.”
My brother might have a bad reputation and a hot-headed temper, but his heart was pure as it could get. I tilt my head to the side. “Z, you’re the best, you know that, right?”
He stuffs his hands into the front pockets of his jeans shyly and looks down at the floor before shrugging. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He walked over to the window of my bedroom and opened it. It leads out to the metal fire escape that we often used to escape the place we call home. I shut my door and lock it before following Zayde.
We had walked to the arcade and hung out for a bit before Zayde’s phone started to blow up. I knew it was our father. I knew there was a bonfire get together at the beach tonight and we were expected to be there. No, scratch that, Zayde was expected to be there. No one cared if I showed up. I nudged Zayde with my shoulder. “We should get going. You need to get to the bonfire. He’s waiting on you.”