Thirty Three

Two days after I get home, the door to my room–or rather, my hideout, since I’ve hardly left it since I got back–bursts open and Jared appears.

A retort is ready on my lips to ask him to get lost when he beats me to it. “Your sister is in the hospital.”

I blink at him, and then push myself up from my lying position on the bed. “What?”

“She developed a migraine in class and passed out on her way to the infirmary. The school called an ambulance…your mother couldn’t reach you on your phone. So she called me.”

Fuck. I get out of bed and look around for a pair of pants. Jared throws one at me, and then a t-shirt.

“Is she okay?”

“Looks like she needs to get that surgery asap,” he tells me.

Shit. She was supposed to have one more month. We haven’t yet put together enough money, and–

“I sold the truck,” Jared says.

“What?”

“I got six grand for it. I would have informed you earlier if you were taking visitors or, I don’t know, taking calls.” He is annoyed, and he isn’t hiding it. He walks past