Page 147 of Outspoken

His body seems to sigh in relief, his shoulders relaxing, but he hesitates, one hand on the rusty ladder.

“We’re both safe. Just give us some time, okay?”

“Fine, but I’m staying here.”

“No. Go wait by the car.”

“No, I’m not—”

“Please. Trust me?”

He squints up at the flashlight with a lot of concern, then finally growls, “Okay, mi amor. But too long and I’m coming back. I don’t like this.”

After Miguel leaves, I return to Angel. He moved further into a corner, light from a window now spilling over him to give his body an eerie white glow. He’s still propped against the wall, but now his arms are crossed and his hoodie is up. There’s a backpack next to him.

“Guess my rescue party is here,” he mutters.

“We’ve been out looking for you all day. I’m glad you’re safe.”

With an eye roll, he bites out, “Why’d you bring fucking Miguel?”

“He called me. He’s sick with worry.”

“He’s not. It’s fake.”

I shake my head. “Miguel was out late last night looking for you, and he called me this morning, terrified. We both care about you.”

“I fucking hate everyone.”

“Even me?”

He presses himself deeper into the corner, squeezing his crossed arms tight. “No. But I don’t know you.”

I sit on the ground cross-legged, doing my best not to look anywhere except at Angel because I’ll probably see a thousand bugs.

Angel rests his head against the concrete wall with a sigh and a sour expression, looking at rips in the blue tarp over the window. We sit in silence a moment as I go over words in my head, trying to figure out what to say. It feels like Angel is teetering on a cliff just beyond my reach. One wrong word and he’ll jump.

I worry I may be the wrong person trying to pull him back from that cliff.

At Rico’s party, Angel said he just wanted others to be real with him.I guess that’s what I should do.Besides Angel, I’ve never dealt with teens or kids, so I don’t know how I should be talking to them, and being too vulnerable with others can make me uncomfortable, so I start rambling.

But I’m good at being real.

I can do this.

With a breath, I just say it. “Three years ago, I tried to kill myself.”

Angel immediately lifts his head and his eyes snap to me.

Good. Keep going.

I play with the hem of my jeans. “That wasn’t the first time, but it’s the only time others know about. There were two before that, but only half-hearted attempts.”

He chews on a corner of his lip, his voice frail. “Why?”

“Why’d I do it?”

He nods, chewing his chapped bottom lip.

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