The Boy Behind the Mask {Delirious}

Chapter 21

Macy's P.O.V.

I was unaware of the mess that I had been involved in. Being confident, positive, and persistent seemed to solve the problem in most situations, whatever the problem may be. It had helped when I moved away, when I introduced myself to Jonathan, when I tried —actually still trying — to open his eyes to the positivity the world provides.

His current situation proved to me that positivity, even as much as I felt, wasn't enough to create rid me of this torturous ache in my heart and a nauseating feeling in my stomach.

Our prior conversation shared no indication that Jonathan's mother would pull away from life support. Although I didn't know her personally, I was monumentally glad that the pain was no longer plaguing her. But another part of me — a selfish part — despised the fact that she would leave Jonathan. He needed her.

When I answered the call, Jonathan's voice was practically unstable.

"Macy," he had croaked out.

The first word was all I needed to know that something was terribly wrong. He continued to talk though, a forced amused tone aligning his words.

"She was such a beautiful woman," he quietly laughed. "Notice that it was past tense."

It quickly clicked and my head was spinning in anxiety as I worried about Jonathan's mental health. "Sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"You know, that's the first time I've ever really heard you cuss," Jonathan mentioned. I thought back to the argument we had in the forest and I remember saying 'damn' there, though that probably didn't seem at all bad to Jonathan. "It's fine though, Macy. There's just a lot going through my head right now."

"I can pick you and Baby up. I'll call a cab. We can go back home and then get your car in the morning," I said hurriedly. I didn't want him driving right now. The thought of him doing something reckless made my stomach churn.

There was a steady silence. "Jonathan? Please? I just want to know you're safe and I want you to come home."

It never really struck me that those words made me sound like a lovesick girlfriend. The fact didn't matter because everything I said was true. I desperately needed Jonathan to be safe.

"You don't have to come all the way here. I'll be sleeping in the backseat of the truck tonight. If it makes you feel any better, I can FaceTime you until I fall asleep."

Was it pathetic that he was offering me comfort in his own dire situation? It truly was, but I appreciated it. The call ended suddenly and not a second later, a FaceTime call had sounded and Jonathan's face had appeared on the screen.

His dark hair was disheveled. The blue eyes I had fallen so deeply in were hollow, dull. The skin around his eyes was puffy, enough to tell that he had been crying.

"Are you okay? I know that it's a stupid question and that you're probably not, but I just need to know that you won't do anything stupid."

A smile lit up his face and for a slight second, he was happy.

"I'll be fine, Macy. I promise that as soon as I wake up, I'll come straight home. Just please keep talking. How was your day?"

That was the moment where I had realized that Jonathan needed to talk to me as much as I needed to talk to him. We did it for our own selfish reasons; Jonathan's being that he didn't want to have to think about the death of his mother and mine being that I just needed to know he'd come back to me.

"As much as I'd love to share the boring details of me going to work, you should talk about this, Jonathan. I know it must hurt, but don't ignore it."