Status: Sorry to leave you hanging guys! The keyboard on my laptop is malfunctioning.
Stop Pretending That You're Sorry
61
The rest of the weekend was spent at Tucci’s house. It was Sunday night, he was driving me home, that’s when I got the call.
I gave the caller ID on my phone a funny look. He must’ve just butt dialed me, but I answered anyway.
“Hello?”
“Regan, oh shit. Thank god you picked up,” Max’s shaky voice sounded through the speaker.
“Max? What’s wrong?”
“It’s John. He’s,” Max took a deep breath and I swore I could hear his voice crack. “He’s… well I’ve just really fucked up, Regan.”
“What’s wrong? What happened, Max?”
Tucci caught sight of my panicked expression and shot me a concerned look before pulling the crown vic over and parking on the shoulder.
“He was supposed to be out tonight, so Cayleigh and I… well he came home earlier than we expected and he was piss drunk and he kind of caught me and Cayleigh on the couch.” All of this was said extremely fast and took a minute to sink in. So wait, Max wasn’t gay? MAX WAS HOOKING UP WITH CAYLEIGH? Max was hooking up with Cayleigh and John walked in on them. John was drunk.
“Fuck. Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” Max said, sounding on the verge of tears. “He took off, Cayleigh went after him. Please, please help me find him.”
“Of course, I’ll find him. Everything will be okay.” And then I hung up the phone and turned to Tucci.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” He asked, his eyes wide with fear.
“It’s Mr. Harrington some shit happened, and… look, we just need to find him.”
“Ight, ight, where do we look?”
“He couldn’t have gotten too far, head in the direction of 1st street.”
And so we were off, our hearts beating out of our chests as we searched the dark streets for our drunk history teacher. We were checking everywhere, driving slower than normal so I could keep an eye out for him.
Just when I was about to give up hope, we turned onto a back road and I caught sight of a familiar blue BMW. I would have been relieved if it the car wasn’t flipped. Instead my heart leapt to my throat, my breathing stopped, and everything felt like it was underwater.
John.
My whole body was shaking and it took me a minute to realize Tucci had stopped the car. In fact Tucci was tugging on my arm desperately trying to get my attention.
“Regan,” He repeated over and over. “Breathe.”
And so I did. The air hit me like a train, filling my lungs with cool, glorious oxygen. My head tipped forward and tears began spilling over onto my cheeks.
“We have to help them,” Tucci said, and I heard the car door open and close next to me.
Them? He didn’t know. He didn’t recognize whose car that was. I looked up to see Gavin heading towards the over turned car, the headlights casting his shadow on the road in an eerie way.
He didn’t realize it was John.
I gave the caller ID on my phone a funny look. He must’ve just butt dialed me, but I answered anyway.
“Hello?”
“Regan, oh shit. Thank god you picked up,” Max’s shaky voice sounded through the speaker.
“Max? What’s wrong?”
“It’s John. He’s,” Max took a deep breath and I swore I could hear his voice crack. “He’s… well I’ve just really fucked up, Regan.”
“What’s wrong? What happened, Max?”
Tucci caught sight of my panicked expression and shot me a concerned look before pulling the crown vic over and parking on the shoulder.
“He was supposed to be out tonight, so Cayleigh and I… well he came home earlier than we expected and he was piss drunk and he kind of caught me and Cayleigh on the couch.” All of this was said extremely fast and took a minute to sink in. So wait, Max wasn’t gay? MAX WAS HOOKING UP WITH CAYLEIGH? Max was hooking up with Cayleigh and John walked in on them. John was drunk.
“Fuck. Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” Max said, sounding on the verge of tears. “He took off, Cayleigh went after him. Please, please help me find him.”
“Of course, I’ll find him. Everything will be okay.” And then I hung up the phone and turned to Tucci.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” He asked, his eyes wide with fear.
“It’s Mr. Harrington some shit happened, and… look, we just need to find him.”
“Ight, ight, where do we look?”
“He couldn’t have gotten too far, head in the direction of 1st street.”
And so we were off, our hearts beating out of our chests as we searched the dark streets for our drunk history teacher. We were checking everywhere, driving slower than normal so I could keep an eye out for him.
Just when I was about to give up hope, we turned onto a back road and I caught sight of a familiar blue BMW. I would have been relieved if it the car wasn’t flipped. Instead my heart leapt to my throat, my breathing stopped, and everything felt like it was underwater.
John.
My whole body was shaking and it took me a minute to realize Tucci had stopped the car. In fact Tucci was tugging on my arm desperately trying to get my attention.
“Regan,” He repeated over and over. “Breathe.”
And so I did. The air hit me like a train, filling my lungs with cool, glorious oxygen. My head tipped forward and tears began spilling over onto my cheeks.
“We have to help them,” Tucci said, and I heard the car door open and close next to me.
Them? He didn’t know. He didn’t recognize whose car that was. I looked up to see Gavin heading towards the over turned car, the headlights casting his shadow on the road in an eerie way.
He didn’t realize it was John.