Oh, Lord.
“And?”
“And you’re coming with me. You too, babe.” She smiles at Kendrick, who doesn’t seem sold on the idea. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Kendrick quickly surrenders to his girlfriend’s pout and puppy eyes. As for me, I consider fighting her but lack the necessary energy.
“Sure.”
She frowns. “Wait, just like that?”
“Just like that.” I laugh quietly.
Yes, I’d rather crawl under a rock and never come out, but meeting new people could be good for me—might take my mind off my horrendous breakup. Today was step one to getting my shit together. I need to make a change. No, I need to make changes. I can’t be the same Winter anymore. A new life takes work, and I might not exactly know where this new life is going to take me, but I do know one thing: it’ll be far, far away from Haze Adams.
“There you go, gorgeous. All done.”
There are many things a girl tends to do after a breakup: get drunk, cry, sleep with a random guy, eat pints of ice cream, feel guilty about it, cry some more and… change her hair. I might have skipped many of the abovementioned steps, but I didn’t escape the latest option.
When the hairdresser spins my chair around and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I blink in shock. I’ve always been curious about darker hair. I’ve been a brunette my whole life, clinging to my birth-given color and dreading changes. But now that my once pale brown hair shifts toward black, I don’t regret it. I have no idea what it is about getting new hair that makes some girls feel empowered. Maybe it’s like letting go of the past and looking forward. Getting a fresh cut means getting a fresh start.
“My, my. Them boys are going to need help picking up the pieces of their broken hearts when you’re done with them.” The kind hairdresser hypes me up. Little does she know the only person who needs help with their broken heart is me.
I miss him. Terribly. But he doesn’t miss me, and he cheated. I can’t ever forgive him for that. I sure hope for his sake that she was more than just a fling. Or else he ruined forever for a few hours.
When I head back to the front of the store, I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing. It’s been two long days since he came to pick up the last of his clothes. He hasn’t been back since, and I doubt that he ever will be. I can’t believe that night was potentially the last time I’ll ever see him.
Once I’ve paid, I pull my phone out. Seven missed calls from the hospital. Five messages from Kendrick.
Shit, something’s wrong.
I select Kendrick’s messages with my heart crawling up my throat and read them too fast for their contents to imprint onto my brain. The victory doesn’t seem real at first, overshadowed by an endless parade of tragedies. Until, finally, it sinks in.
Maybe there is a guy keeping scores up there, after all.
Kendrick: He’s awake.
“Where is he?” I burst through the doors of the waiting room with one mission and one mission only: see my dad. Kendrick, Allie, and Jaden jump from their seats.
“We can’t see him yet.” Jay strides to me. I pull him into a hug. We’ve been texting since he went back to live with my mom. Our conversations mainly consist of him begging me to come pick him up, but I can’t add custody battles to my school dropout, heartbroken mess plate right now.
“They’l
l tell us as soon as he’s ready,” Kendrick adds.
“How did you even know?” I question.
“Don’t be mad…” Kendrick says uneasily. “They couldn’t reach Lauren. Or you. So, they went for the second number they had for you.”
It hits me.
“Haze,” I deduce.
The first time we showed up, right after the accident, we had to give them as many numbers to reach us as possible. Haze was there and insisted that if, for whatever reason, I couldn’t pick up, he would, no matter what.
“He called you?” I’m surprised.
Kendrick nods. “I’m assuming he thought you wouldn’t pick up if he tried, so he let us know instead. We picked up Jay from school right away.”