Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I decide to try Stella’s phone after changing into a pair of sweats. She doesn’t answer either.
Maybe they’re somewhere loud and can’t hear their phones? They have to be. It’s only the reason that doesn’t threaten to send me into a panic.
“Samson,” I call, walking back into the kitchen. “You have Sterling’s number, right?”
“Yeah, man.” He tips his head my way ever so slightly.
“Call him and see if he’s heard from them. Frankie’s not picking up either.”
“You think they’re okay?” Samson pushes his plate away, his attention solely on me.
“Fuck, man, I hope so.” I run a hand through my hair, tugging on the ends until my scalp stings. “Hey, do you know where Stella keeps the thermometer and shit?”
“You live here, not me.” His tone is easy going, but I can see the worry he’s trying to hide.
“Helpful, real helpful. Call Sterling. I’m going to sit with Mav.”
“On it.”
I try Frankie one more time on my way back to her bedroom, but still, no answer.
Maverick whimpers in his sleep, and I rush to the bed, pressing my hand to his forehead. His cheeks are candy-apple red, and he’s burning up. Fuck.
With Frankie not answering, I call the only other person I can think of, and she answers on the first ring.
“Orion, is everything okay?”
No, I want to shout, nothing’s okay!
But then, Mav reaches for me in his sleep. “O, you’re back,” he mumbles, wrapping himself around me.
“Maverick’s sick, Mom. He’s burning up.”
“Where’s Frankie? How high is his fever? Other symptoms? There’s a nasty bug going around.”
“I don’t know. Stella took her for girls’ night and neither of them are picking up their phones. He threw up earlier and now he… he has to have a fever, but I don’t know where Stella keeps her thermometer. I think he needs medicine, but I don’t know what he can take. What do I do?”
“Do you need me to come over? I can be there—”
“You don’t have to do that, Mom. I wouldn’t want you to get sick. Just tell me what to do.”
I swear I hear her sniffle just before she asks, “Do you have a pen and paper?”
“I can make notes in my phone,” I tell her, switching the call to speaker.
“First, you need a thermometer. I always let you kids sweat out your fever, unless it was over one-oh-two or you were in pain. Either way, you’ll want to get some kids Tylenol and some Motrin. You can alternate them. He can also take lukewarm baths to bring his fever down. You said he threw up?”
“Yeah, just once,” I reply, steadily tapping her advice into the notepad on my phone.
“Okay. Get some Pedialyte and popsicles just in case.”
“Any kind of popsicles?”
“Yep. Any kind.”
Maverick slings his arm over my middle, burying his head into my armpit.
“Do you need me to run to the store? I really don’t mind.”
“I know you don’t, Mom. But Samson is already here. I’ll just send him.”
When she doesn’t reply right away, I know it’s killing her not to be able to help. She’s been ready for grandkids for years, and Maverick’s the closest thing she’s got.
“Okay. Tell him Gigi loves him.”
“I will. Oh, and, Mom…”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too, Orion.” She sniffles again. “So much.”
I end the call and then dial Samson.
“Are you seriously calling me from the other room?”
“Did you figure out where they are?” I ask, ignoring his smartass question.
“Nope. But Sterling said he’d call Gabe and Zach.”
We’re playing the world’s most fucked up game of telephone. “I need you to run to the store.”
“Yeah, man. Sure. Just tell me what you need.”
I rattle off the list and then end the call right as Maverick’s lids flutter open. “Where’s Mama?” he rasps.
“She’ll be home soon, bud. Don’t worry.”
A riot of emotions explode inside of me as I watch his eyes fill with tears. The kid’s miserable. My heart aches for him. All he wants is Frankie, but he’s stuck with me.
“You’ll stay with me, right?” His voice wobbles as he scooches impossibly closer to me.
“I won’t move a muscle until your mama’s here.”
“No.” He wraps his pinkie finger around mine. “Stay then, too. I need you, too, O.”
This kid, man. He’s killing me.
“I’ll be here.” I press a kiss to the top of his head and draw the covers up to his chest. “Try to sleep.”
He yawns and nestles into my side, his skin practically searing mine, he’s so hot. “Love you, O.”
That’s it. Game over. TKO. Stick a fork in me, I’m done.
“Love you, too, Mav,” I murmur, my whole fucking heart lodged in my esophagus as I run my fingers through his hair.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FRANKIE
“Oh my God,” I say between panting huffs, “that was way more fun than I thought it would be.”
“See!” Stella shouts victoriously, skipping ahead of us toward the wall of lockers where we stashed our belongings.