Page 45 of The Other Side of Wild
“It looks great, Mom; you did a really good job.” I turn and lean my head against her shoulder. “I didn’t bring anything with me; Harley is still with Abby. I guess I should call her, huh?” My mom gives me a look that brings me back to being a high school kid. I walk towards my childhood bedroom, pulling my phone out of my back pocket, taking it out of airplane mode, cringing when an onslaught of texts came through over the past twelve-ish hours.
Greyson: Hannah, please, I didn’t mean that. I’m so sorry.
Greyson: Please. Please talk to me.
Greyson: Can you at least let me know you made it home safely?
Greyson: Hannah, it’s been two hours, and Abby said you haven’t been home yet. Where are you? Are you okay?
Greyson: I’m going to go out and look for you if you don’t respond. Please, Kitten. I need to know you’re okay. I’m so, so sorry.
Greyson: Please...
Greyson: Fine. I’m calling the police.
Abby: Greyson called and said you left his house over an hour ago, and he hasn’t heard from you.
Abby: Han? Are you okay?
Abby: Uhh, hello? Why are you ignoring me?
Abby: Listen here. If you don’t respond and let me know you’re okay, I’m sending out a search party.
Abby: Don’t make me call your mom, Hannah Lowery.
Abby: Dang it, Han. What the heck happened?
Amy: Hannah, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d lash out like that. He didn’t mean it.
Tate: Can you let us know you’re okay?
Amy: Sweetheart, are you there?
Amy: Hannah, I know you’re upset, but please let us know you’re okay.
William: Please let us know you’re okay.
Cheese and rice. Even Tatum reached out? I texted Amy to let her know I’m fine but would appreciate some space. My phone rings almost immediately; it’s Greyson’s name that pops up, bringing me face to face with the picture of us by the lighthouse. Quickly declining the call, I dial Abby instead, hoping he’ll get the hint and I won’t lose my nerve.
“HANNAH LOWERY! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Welp, you’ve reached the voicemail of Hannah Marie; I can’t come to the phone right now because my bestie murdered me.
“I’m at home.”
“No, you are not, considering Harley has been watching me pace back and forth since two very worried Wilder brothers showed up here at 3 AM looking for you.” I can hear the exhaustion in her voice; I feel bad for not letting her in on what was going on. Truly, last night felt like an out-of-body experience, and I needed time to sort my thoughts out.
“I’m home, home. Like, Bama home.” The silence is deafening. If anyone knows my aversion to the state of Alabama, it’s Abby. I don’t think there’s anything in my life I’ve trash-talked more than my home state. At one point, my response to everything I thought was stupid was “roll tide.”
“Can you take care of my nugget while I’m gone? Please?” She cracks her knuckles and takes a deep breath. I’m not sure what she’s waiting for or if she’s pausing for dramatic effect, but it’s unsettling.
“Of course, I will; I just don’t understand why you ran. And ran so far.”
Because that’s what I do, it’s who I am. A runner. She scoffs at my silence, “You’re really something else, Han. Want to tell me what happened and why Greyson showed up looking like he’d been drug behind a Zamboni all night?”
“I need to talk through it with Megan first. I don’t know what to think of it, but some things were said, and I feel like a fool. I thought he was different.”
“Hannah, I don’t know what he said, but if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have shown up here at 3 in the morning after he and Tate had been driving around looking for you for two hours. You’ve both been through some stuff the past few weeks; give yourself and him a little grace. Okay?”
Nodding like she can see me, I barely croak out an “Okay.” I hung up, knowing that I needed to call Megan. Luckily, she takes Zoom calls, and I texted her at 1 AM asking if she could squeeze in a virtual session later today. But first and foremost, I need liquid courage.