All Chapters of What We Kept In The Dark: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The phone keeps ringing in my hand and I just stare at Reina’s name flashing across the screen, my thumb hovering over the answer button but not pressing it.I should pick up.She’s my best friend, she’s worried about me, she deserves to hear my voice and know I’m okay.But if I answer she’s going to ask questions—where I am, what I’ve been doing, why I’ve been so distant and I don’t know how to lie to her anymore, don’t know how to keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s so far from fine.The ringing stops.Silence fills the apartment.I set the phone down on the couch cushion beside me, screen facing down so I don’t have to see if she calls back.“I know that feeling,” Jeremy says quietly from his spot on the other end of the couch. “I felt it when Ryan called me that day, after he found out you were at the hospital. Wanting to answer but knowing it would just make everything more complicated.”I look at him and there’s understanding in his eyes, not judgment.“She’s going to th

I’m still standing in the middle of the living room when it hits me.Jeremy’s mom is dying. The words echo in my head, over and over, and I can’t move, can’t think past the way Jeremy’s face went completely white when Jamel said it, can’t stop hearing the crack in his voice when he asked how long she had.I’m just standing here staring at nothing while my brain tries to catch up to what’s happening.Then I hear it. A drawer slamming in the bedroom hard and loud enough that it snaps me out of whatever fog I’ve been stuck in.Another slam and something hits the floor with a thud. I blink and look toward the hallway, toward the bedroom where Jeremy disappeared the second he hung up with his brother.My legs feel shaky when I start walking but I make myself move, one foot in front of the other, until I’m standing in the bedroom doorway.He’s got a bag open on the bed and he’s just grabbing things, shirts and jeans and socks, not even looking at what he’s taking, just shoving them in with

Jamel’s car is an older model Honda with a dent in the passenger door and an air freshener shaped like a pine tree hanging from the rearview mirror that’s doing its best to cover the smell of old fast food.I’m in the backseat next to Jeremy and the radio’s on low, some country station playing a song about highways and heartbreak, and Jamel pulls out of the parking lot without saying anything.I watch the airport disappear behind us as we merge onto the highway heading out of the city.It’s full dark now but I can still make out the shapes of trees against the horizon, the occasional farmhouse with lights on in the windows.Jeremy’s drumming his fingers against his thigh again, that anxious rhythm that doesn’t match the music, and his other hand is clenched into a fist on his knee.I reach over and take his hand again, covering his fist with my hand.His fingers uncurl immediately and he grabs onto me, holding tight like I’m the only thing keeping him anchored.Jamel glances at us in

The house is smaller than I expected, single story with white paint that’s peeling a little around the edges and a porch with two rocking chairs that look like they’ve been sitting there for decades.Jeremy pulls into the driveway and kills the engine but he doesn’t move to get out right away, just sits there staring at the house through the windshield like he’s trying to prepare himself for whatever memories are waiting inside.“This is where you grew up?” I ask quietly.He nods without looking at me. “Yeah, me and Jamel, right here in this house.”There’s something in his voice, something heavy and nostalgic and painful all wrapped together, and I don’t push him to say more.He finally opens the door and steps out and I follow, the warm Texas air wrapping around us even though it’s late, cicadas singing so loud in the trees that it’s almost deafening.Jeremy pulls a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks the front door, pushing it open with a creak that sounds like it’s been making

Jeremy drives like the world is ending.Flying down the empty highway at speeds that make my hands grip the door handle, the streetlights blurring past in streaks of yellow and white.I don’t tell him to slow down because I understand, understand the panic driving his foot down on the accelerator, understand the terror that if he doesn’t get there fast enough he’ll miss his chance to say goodbye.The hospital appears in the distance and Jeremy takes the turn into the parking lot so fast the tires squeal, and he barely gets the car into a spot before he’s out and running toward the entrance.I follow as quickly as I can, my legs not quite keeping up with his longer stride.Inside the hospital is different at this hour, quieter somehow even though it’s never really quiet, the fluorescent lights seeming harsher against the darkness outside.Jamel is standing in the hallway outside Catherine’s room and when he sees us his face crumples with relief.His eyes are red and swollen like he’s b