Page 76 of Quiet
He took up a sketchbook, but after several abortive attempts to capture Isa’s quiet beauty, he was up and pacing once more. The bandage and bruising were impossible to ignore, and their existence was systematically destroying every coping mechanism he had.
No. He still had one left.
It was too late to call, but they’d always told him to call day or night if he needed them. Just because he’d never taken either parent up on the offer, didn’t mean he couldn’t start now.
He ended up dialing his mom’s number. His aunt loved sleep more than she loved breathing—or so she said—and while he was pretty sure she’d answer, he doubted she’d be coherent enough to talk to.
His mom answered on the second ring. “What’s the matter, Briar? Are you okay?”
What he’d planned to say wasI don’t know.
What came out was gut wrenching silence.
He tried again. If he didn’t get something out soon, his mom was going to freak out. But it was no use. His brain was fried, his resources were nil. If it was anyone else—including Alex—he wouldn’t have even tried, but this was his mom. He could always talk to her. With the exception of the last time they’d talked when he’d had the revelation about his feelings for Isa, that is. But he’d eventually managed it.
He went to push the button for a video call, but the request was already coming through. He accepted and his mom’s sleep softened face greeted him.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
Briar tried to say something, anything. But it was like his mouth was glued shut. He propped his phone up on his desk to free his hands, but he found them horribly silent as well.
What the fuck?
“Briar, you’re scaring me. Are you hurt?”
He shook his head.
“Can you text me?”
He didn’t even have to try to know that he couldn’t. The itching in his mind had turned up to an eleven. Could he even draw right now? It would be better not to try. If he failed, what if he went mad?
“Hold on, love. Let me get Fiona.”
His hands were shaking so badly he considered hanging up. But if he did, it would scare his mom. Calling her had been a terrible idea.
“Here, talk to him, Fiona. Something’s wrong.”
His aunt’s confused, mostly asleep face was huge on his screen, like his mom had jammed the phone at her in panic.
“Briar?” His aunt blinked slowly, her gaze unfocused. Like her brain wasn’t even close to being online. Briar would feel bad for her if he wasn’t already completely freaking out. “What’s wrong, love?”
He shook his head helplessly.
“Is it the boy? Isa? Did something happen?”
He nodded. Then shook his head. Yes, he was freaked out by what had happened to Isa, but not being able to talk to his parents had made everything a thousand times worse.
He rubbed both sides of his head until it hurt. But he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t tell them anything.
There was only one person he could talk to now, but he was broken and battered and needed his sleep more than Briar needed him.
“It’s okay, Briar. Whatever is going on, it’s going to be okay. I promise,” his aunt said in a low, soothing tone.
Briar took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His mom and aunt took turns speaking in soft voices, telling him about inconsequential things. It was a kindness. They must be scared, but they were putting it aside for him. Because they loved him. The thought was enough for him to open his eyes and summon a shaky smile.
He turned off the phone, knowing they would forgive him for not being able to say goodbye. He’d try again tomorrow after Isa woke up. Maybe he could help.
He got undressed, pulled on a pair of sleep pants and curled around Isa’s small form, trying to comfort himself with the fact that the boy was here now and safe with Briar.
