He sits up and rubs his eyes. “Yeah. I mean, probably.”
As his mom tells him that she’s going to be worried until he does, he puts her on speaker and checks the news on his phone. The warning hasn’t been upgraded to an order yet, but things aren’t looking too good either. Damn.
“Okay, I hear you,” he says. “I’ll go stay in New York.”
“That’ll be nice, you’ll get to see your sister!” His mom suddenly sounds cheerful, as if they aren’t discussing a potentially deadly fire.
He needs to talk to Trevor. But first he needs to know if he’s being ridiculous by trying to get Trevor to come with him. He only recently told hismom about he and Trevor spending time together, not wanting to jinx it at first. But now that she knows, he might as well ask her opinion.
“Mom, they’re suggesting for Santa Monica to evacuate too. It’s just a precaution at this point, but how long’s it been since Santa Monica was even mentioned? It sounds bad. So I asked Trevor to come with me.”
“That’s good,” she says. “I’m glad.”
“But he won’t do it. He doesn’t want to leave his damn house.”
“I know, but you understand why, don’t you?”
“No,” he starts. But—“Wait. What do you mean you know? How?”
There’s a long pause before she answers. “Oh, I don’t know. I only meant that, well, that was his mom’s house, right? I can imagine he’d be terrified of losing it. That’s all I meant. I didn’t mean Iknow, only that I was assuming.”
Huh?
“Mom.”
“What?”
“You’re being weird.”
She laughs, but it sounds forced even through the phone. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” he argues with her.
There's a pause before she says, “All right, fine. I guess I need to tell you something.”
“I’m listening.” He's so damn confused at this point.
She sighs, and then—“Trevor and I kept in contact after you two broke up.”
What. The. Fuck.
“This whole time?”
“Yes. We talk on the phone every other month or so. Occasionally more.”
Trevor and his mom. Every other month. They talk.
Skyler didn’t get to talk to Trevor for five damn years, and it killed him every single one of those days. How is this fucking fair?
“I don’t understand.” He bunches the sheet underneath him tightly in his fist, feeling like the bed has tilted and he might fall out. “Why? And how could you never tell me about this?”
“Sweetie, I’m sorry. I really am. But you know Trevor was like family when you two were together all those years. And afterward, that poor boy still needed someone. I didn’t tell you because he begged me not to, but I promise we agreed to never discuss anything having to do with you.”
Skyler gets out of bed and stomps into his closet to get dressed and pack his duffle bag. He doesn’t have time for this.
“Please try to understand,” his mom says.
“I don’t know if I can right now because I think I need a while to process this. And I need to get ready to leave.” As he cradles the phone between his ear and shoulder and shimmies into a pair of lounge pants, he remembers her original comment. “So wait. You’ve already talked to him about the fire warning?”
