Red Shoes, Black Coffee (Red & Black #2)

10 | Morning revelations

Jed

How's ur mom?

A text from Carla woke me up at 6 AM on Saturday. Cursing myself for not having muted my phone before going to sleep, I rolled over in bed and searched for my glasses. Groping around for them took me a while, but the action was necessary since without them, I was as blind as a bat. With the glasses on my nose, I reached for my phone. I squinted at the message for a good few minutes, wondering what in the world she came up with now.

She's fine. Y? I type back.

Her response comes within seconds.

There's a thing.

I blink. Suddenly alert, I sit up and rub my head, trying hard to wake my brain.

What thing?

My heart starts pounding when I get the next message.

U need to come home.

I'm halfway typing my response when I get another one.

Now.

I sit back in the bed, any traces of sleep gone. Entering the contacts, I choose Carla's number and bring the phone up to my ear. She answers after the second signal.

"What -"

She doesn't let me finish. "Can you come home?"

I hesitate. "Yes." I finally say. 

"Then do it."

She hangs up. 

I stare at the phone for several seconds before calling her again. The effect is the same. Waiting a moment, I dial her number again, just to be sure. When she doesn't answer this time, either, I scramble out of bed. I wash and dress as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up my parents. They'd start to worry, and nervous Mom is the last thing I need. 

One uncertain heart racing a hundred miles per hour is enough. 

I slip out of my room and creep down the hall soundlessly. In order to get to the front door, I have to pass my parents' bedroom. I feel like a fifteen-year-old creeping out of the house for a forbidden party when I make my way by their bedroom door. It's not closed and a slight crack reveals a sliver of the bed. Right when I think I succeeded in my silent mission, Mom's voice stops me in my tracks.

"Jed?" She whispers. 

I hear the rustle of sheets as she rolls in the bed to face the door. Sighing, I poke my head through the crack, making out the silhouette of Mom who's occupying the side closest to the door.

"Are you going out?" She asks. I hear her shift, probably searching for a clock. "What time is it?"

"It's still early." I keep my voice down to a whisper. Dad is still sleeping and I'd rather it remained this way. "I need to go back to my place now. I'll call you later."

"Why?" Mom's voice is still groggy with sleep but I can sense she's beginning to worry. "Did something happen?"

I'd like to know myself. "No." I lower my voice to ease her alarm. "Everything's okay. I'll explain later. Go back to sleep."