I know I’m complicated. I know I act like a bitch, but I can’t help it. I haven’t even heard from Hunter today. He made me open up only to vanish again, making me feel just as stupid as Nash, who shared my bed, only to jump into another one when he felt like it.
“You don’t know that,” my thinking brain utters into the room. “He said he had something to take care of, notsomeone.”
Since the wind howls through every little gap in the van, creating eerie sounds, I turn up the radio, but it doesn’t help. Suddenly, a branch from a tree I’m parked next to falls on the van’s windshield with a loud thud, and I jump.
Fuck.
There is another loud clap of thunder, and I cringe just before knocking starts on the van’s roof. It’s rhythmic, probably a branch getting whipped on the roof by the wind, but all the sounds outside send my imagination into overdrive. Without thinking, I grab my phone and call Hunter’s number. He picks up after the second ring.
“You all right?” His tone is shaky, and he sounds hollow like he’s in a bathroom or something.
“I-I’m sorry, did I wake you? Fuck, I shouldn’t have called, I’m sorry.” My heart rate picks up. What the fuck was I thinking, calling him in the middle of the night because I was scared of a storm?
Hunter of all people.
“No, no, I’m awake, and please, don’t hang up. I wanted to call you too,” he says softly, his tone stronger now, and it sounds like a door is closing on his side.
“You did?” I ask, pulling the covers higher around me.
“Yes, I had some meetings today, one after the other, and I couldn’t come over. I wanted to text you, but… I don’t know, I wanted to hear your voice.”
Wait, what?
“Meetings?” I ask, surprised.
Hunter chuckles. “Yes, meetings, boring stuff. I’m gonna tell you about it, but first, are you okay? Why are you calling?”
“I’m… I-I don’t know, it’s silly,” I stutter, again ashamed to reach out to him for this.
If anything, I should be the one comforting him.
“Tell me,” Hunter commands softly.
“I think I just needed my thunder buddy,” I whisper, and at that moment, thunder hits again, making me yelp.
“Sloan?” Hunter asks, concerned.
“I’m fine, sorry. It’s just… it’s louder here in the van. It’s like just standing in the storm with a pot over your head, amplifying the sound of the rain and everything.”
“Do you want to come here? You can have your room back, or we can sleep on the couch and watch some movies.”
We? He would sleep on the couch for me?
“No, thank you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called, and I already feel better now that we have talked. I was just spiraling a bit with shit that fell on the van. I’m good now,” I reassure him, but I know it sounds forced.
There is some rustling on his side. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll let you sleep now. But thank you for picking up,” I whisper.
“Always, Sloan.”
“Goodnight,” I tell him, hanging up.
I put away my phone, grabbing the book I’ve read at least a hundred times from the floor.
Maybe I can bore myself to sleep.
The sounds of the storm outside continue to echo through the van, and I cringe every few minutes, the anxiety just beneath the surface refusing to subside. Maybe ten minutes later, over the relentless rain and thunder, I hear an engine sound, stopping right beside my van.
