Page 137 of Bad at Love
“You’re right,” I say, staring at her. “He will wake up in jail. I might be in jail with him.”
“You were only defending yourself,” Noah says.
Technically I was defending Noah. But I did punch Daryl first. When he comes to, there’s no doubt he’ll tell them what I did. I am not innocent here.
“You’re not going to jail, Laz,” my mother says. “I’ll tell the cops what he did to us. I’ll tell them you defended us.”
I know I shouldn’t be surprised that my mother is taking my side over Daryl’s but I am.
I’m even more surprised to hear it for myself later when the cops are questioning us in the kitchen. Daryl woke up just in time and was placed in handcuffs before being hauled to the hospital.
The same medics that worked on him, did a quick once over on me. My lip is split and I’ll have a black eye but other than that, I came out of it okay.
“Thanks,” I tell my mother after they leave. “For that.”
She nods, rubbing her frail hands together. “I should have done that a long time ago with your father.”
She looks so…alone.
My heart pinches.
I get up from my chair and walk over to her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s never too late to start again.”
She wraps her arms around me and quietly cries. I don’t know how long we stand there like that. Our relationship will always be damaged, always be tainted by our past. But maybe, just maybe, there can be another phase of it, where we are better versions of our past selves.
“Laz,” Noah says.
Still holding onto my mother I look over at him in the doorway. “Yah?”
A tiny smile tugs at his lips. “Your ride is here.”
I frown. “My ride? Noah, I have a car.”
“And you aren’t driving in your condition,” my mother says.
“Then I’ll stay overnight here, sleep in my old room,” I tell her.
“But your ride is here,” Noah says again. Then he jerks his head toward the front door.
What the fuck is going on?
I let go of my mother and walk through the kitchen all the way through the foyer to the front door.
I open it.
A yellow VW bug with a bee decal on the side is parked in the driveway, engine running.
Bloody hell.
I look behind at Noah.
“Why is she here?”
“I called her,” he says, now with a bit of a smirk.
“Why?”
“Because she’s your best friend, isn’t she? And your best friend should be there for you. I told her what happened and she said she was coming right over.”
