Page 24 of Wicked Titan

“Did you need a ride home today?” Grant asks as we walk out of the school.

I hold up my key fob that I’ve kept a remarkably close eye on as I smile. “Nope. I’m good today, but thanks.”

“Anytime,” he winks, walking to his car as I slide into the driver’s seat of mine.

Dialing Haley again, the call goes unanswered. I dial Mason’s number. They are both off school already because they are lucky enough to have early dismissal.

The automated voice message sounds on the other end of the line as Mason doesn’t answer either. He is probably at football practice or something. Nothing is wrong.

Looking up, I see Asher leaning in that same position against his car like he’d been yesterday. His lip curls in a slight smile.

I’m just being paranoid. He’s sick, but there’s no way he’s that cruel—at least I hope not. Haley is the only person who feels like family that I have left.

One thing is for sure, if he did anything to sabotage our friendship, I will not let it slide.

18

I’m unsure what’s happening with Candace, but she’s been awfully understanding today. I glance over at her as we eat dinner. She hadn’t freaked out when I’d told her I’d decided to move out. Even the news that I didn’t want to go to school today went over surprisingly well. Candace even let Tanner stay home from school so we could spend the day together, shopping for hours at the mall. According to her, everyone needs a “mental health day” sometimes. And she was right, spending the day with Tanner was perfect.

I didn’t pick out anything at her urging, instead I enjoyed helping Tanner pick out his new Lego set. He was so excited he actually ate his food so he could go back to his room and put it together.

Grabbing my plate off the table, I walk over to the sink to rinse it. Yes, Francis could do it, but it feels weird to have her do such an effortless task that is second nature to me.

“Before you head upstairs, I wanted to speak with you about something.” Candace motions for me to have a seat back at the table.

That doesn’t sound good. And the usual relaxed expression is gone from Nathan’s face so it must be serious.

I stiffly sit at the table across from them. “What happened?”

“Oh nothing, Quinn.” Candace gives me a tight smile. “It’s just … we wanted to talk to you before you leave about having a memorial service for your dad.”

The air is sucked out of my lungs. So much for all the mental health progress we’d made together. Candace erased it with one sentence.

“I can’t.”

Candace reaches across the table to place her hand on mine, but I jerk it away before she reaches me. “Quinn, I know it’s difficult but—”

“No, you don’t know,” I say, biting the inside of my lip as a bitter, metallic taste floods my taste buds. Candace doesn’t know me … the man that was actually there for my entire life does.

“You need to get some closure if you ever hope to move on.”

“Closure? They haven’t even found him yet. How will staring at a picture of him while everyone sheds phony tears give me closure?”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Quinn, because you don’t want a line just to make you feel better.” Nathan speaks softly as Candace remains still. “The harsh truth is they might not find him. But we want to give you the opportunity if you’d like to say goodbye, pay your respects. And I’m sure there are plenty of people who would shed anything but phony tears for your dad.”

A tear falls down my cheek as I say the words I haven’t spoken since the day after I found out my dad was gone. I can’t let the thought go because I need to cling to something for an ounce of hope. “What if he’s not gone?”

Candace’s hand shoots to her mouth as she lets out a soft gasp.

“Quinn,” Nathan says with such pity that it pierces straight to my heart.

“He’s a climber. That cliff would’ve been nothing for him to scale. Maybe he made it out and he’s fine.” Tears roll down my cheeks, knowing it’s so unlikely, but it’s the only thought that has kept me from completely losing it, even if I know how impossible it is.

“Sweetheart, he’s gone. He’s not coming back.” Nathan’s words wrap around my neck, gripping tightly, choking my only prospect for happiness as I struggle to take a breath.

“No,” I push up from the chair, turning to leave, but Nathan counters my move, blocking my path as he lightly grips my shoulders.

“Quinn, I’m so sorry.”