Give Me A Chance (boyxboy)

Twenty-Two

The next morning, I'm sitting at the island in the kitchen, eating cereal as I quickly whip through some homework. I'm trying to take my mind off my incessant worrying about Blaine. I've texted him and he'll respond when he's ready. I know he will.

But I can't shake the look in his eyes last night. I can't figure out what it was. The only thing that comes close is I think he looked a little scared. For what, I don't know. But I'm scared for him. Hence me trying to get my mind off things. But worry sneaks in. What else am I supposed to do on a Sunday?

I rip through my homework and I end up sitting there, staring at my phone. At the text I sent. I can't help but think that this is the way I made him feel after he told me he liked me. I shut him out for days. I wonder if he really is mad about it and decided I needed to experience it. I can't believe that he would, but he also wouldn't tell me what happened with his mom last night.

It's at that moment, the exact moment when I'm staring at the text, contemplating, that my phone vibrates and a text pops through. It says Can you come over?. Another quickly pops up after it. Please. And then an address rings through. I realize that I had no idea where Blaine lives. But I do now. And I need to get there.

"Hey, Griffin?" I call into the living room.

He peeks his head out past the wall. "Yeah?"

"You think you could drive me somewhere?" I ask him.

"Sure thing," he says. "Where to?"

I exhale quietly. "Blaine's," I say.

"What for?" he asks, a hint of a sly smile creeping onto his face.

"Nothing like that," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm not sure, entirely." I set my bowl, now empty, in the sink. "But something doesn't seem right." I nervously run a hand through my hair.

The sly smile vanishes. It's replaced with a look of resolution. "Okay," he says quietly. "We should get going, then. Come on." He stands up, grabs his car keys from nearby, and heads for the door.

"Thank you," I tell him, throwing on my shoes and opening the door. "I'm worried about him. He got a little distant last night, and I–"

He cuts me off. "I don't need to know the specifics," he says calmly. "I believe you." He finishes tying his shoe and straightens up. He throws on a baseball cap and strides out the door, unlocking the car as he goes. "Where are we headed?" I tell him the address and he stops on the sidewalk. "You're sure that's the place?"

I nod. "Yeah, why?"

"I got called to the rehab center last night," he says contemplatively. "The patient, I think that was her home address." He turns around. "Blaine lives there?"

I shrug. "I mean, I would think so, he asked me to come over and sent me this address..." I trail off. "He said something about his mom last night." It's hitting me now. If paramedics were called to the rehab center, and Blaine's house was the patient's home address. It's his mom.

"What happened to her?" I ask Griffin quietly, staring at the texts from Blaine.

He scratches his chin. "Someone snuck some stuff into the center, she got a hold of it," he tells me, and his expression is scared too. "We called an ambulance and sent her to the hospital. I don't know anything after that, I'm sorry."

"Oh my god," I whisper.

"Get in the car," Griffin says. "He needs you right now."

I clamber in the passenger seat and he pulls out onto the road. "Have you talked to him since last night?" Griffin asks me, diving through a stop sign.