Page 68 of Limbo

“Go on.”

“How do you feel about road trips?” I turn around to gauge his reaction. “I have to go home for the weekend and want you to come.”

He tenses, an uneasiness washing over him. Understandable, since the girl who lost her shit, dipped out for a few weeks, and showed up, still not explaining herself, just asked him to spend an entire weekend with her with no way to escape. He would be crazy to even consider it.

“Sorry,” I tell him, “I shouldn’t have—”

“I’ll go,” he says.

Oh. Holy shit.

I wait at the counter with the gas station’s impatient cashier. A bag of beef jerky lands on top of the pile of candy, and Jordan walks away from the counter for a third time. He returns with sour gummy worms.

Before he can head for more, I snag his arm. “Three hours, Jordan. The trip is three hours, not three days.”

“Fine,” he says, pulling cash from his wallet. “But if we have to stop again, it’s on you.”

A burden I’ll willingly shoulder.

As I pull out of the parking lot, he connects my phone to play music. “Help me pick appropriate background music,” he says with a piece of licorice hanging out of his mouth.

“We need a soundtrack for my life story?”

He looks at me like I questioned whether the Earth is round. “Well, I don’t want to have our music contradicting the tone. I mean, we can’t have you divulging information about a traumatic life event with NSYNC playing. What about a happy story with Nine Inch Nails? That would be pure lunacy, Callie.”

I roll my eyes. Even a road trip turns into a production with Jordan Waters. Not sure of what type of music will go with our upcoming conversation, I don’t answer him. A few more minutes of silence pass as he struggles to decide. Finally, a song I don’t remember buying comes through the speakers. I smile at his choice. Angsty nineties pop punk fits the situation well. He lowers the music and shares a piece of his candy with me.

“Are you ready now?” I ask.

He nods and settles in for story time.

I chew on a bite, those nerves reappearing. One would think, after I just talked about this with Benji, I would be ready to go, but I skimmed over a lot with him. Jordan deserves the whole exhaustive account, especially since he is voluntarily wading straight into it.

Lord help me, here we go.

“So, I’ve never had a stable or healthy relationship with my parents. Graham and Lauren were sixteen when they had me and got married. It only took me until age five to realize they hated each other, and by the time I was seven, Graham made it clear I was to blame for everything wrong in his life. Around then, they started daily screaming matches and throwing things. Those escalated until I was sixteen. She finally filed for divorce after he threatened to lock her in the house and set it on fire.”

I don’t let myself check over to see his response but notice him shift.

“How do you know he blames you?” he asks after a few seconds.

One of my least favorite memories makes me pause. Other than when I told Trey and Pete over a decade ago, I’ve never repeated it out loud. “His exact words were, ‘I should have just left you in a dumpster to die so I wouldn’t have ended up stuck with this cheap bitch.’”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Callie. What did your mom say?”

A wry smile forms as I remember her reaction. “She slapped him for calling her cheap.”

Then they fought over whose life I’d ruined more. In front of me.

“You were seven?” His voice wavers.

“Pretty great parenting, huh?” I glance at Jordan when he doesn’t answer. He stares at the dash, his expression focused. “Trust me; they’ve only gotten better with time. Lauren’s borderline neglectful now, and Graham … well, we’ll get back to him.”

He still doesn’t say anything, so I give him a minute to digest. Never before has a mortal attempted eighteen years of the Henders family all at once.

“When Lauren got pregnant with Cate, I couldn’t wrap my head around them bringing another child into their volatile relationship, if you can even call it that. I had so much pent-up resentment toward them. I was miserable and shut everyone out other than Connor, Trey, and Pete.”

“First boyfriend Pete?” he asks.

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