Dylan Wilkinson Quotes in Son of a Trickster
Dylan threw up and Jared went to the kitchen and made coffee.
He sat at the island and turned on his phone again.
Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, Destiny had texted.
I hate my life, Jared thought.
He checked his voice mail, erasing Destiny’s messages as soon as he heard her voice. One of the messages began with a long pause.
“Jared?” Mrs. Jaks said. “I’m home. I need some help.”
She’d phoned two days ago. After the holiday parties, he couldn’t really remember what he was doing two days ago.
The bites had healed. He didn’t feel his missing toe anymore. He should be over it by now, he thought, but as he treaded water, he wanted to get drunk, immediately. He wanted to not feel terrified or dumped or used anymore. He wanted to get out of his head and never, ever crawl back in.
“I want to shake your hand,” Mr. Wilkinson said. And he held out his hand, and he was attracting attention, so Jared reluctantly shook. “It took a lot of guts to come here. I wish I’d been as together as you are when I was your age. I’m proud of you, Jared.”
Jared started crying. Leaking tears. And then bawling and shaking. And feeling like a phony and a loser. Mr. Wilkinson wrapped his arms around him and let him cry.
Dylan Wilkinson Quotes in Son of a Trickster
Dylan threw up and Jared went to the kitchen and made coffee.
He sat at the island and turned on his phone again.
Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, Destiny had texted.
I hate my life, Jared thought.
He checked his voice mail, erasing Destiny’s messages as soon as he heard her voice. One of the messages began with a long pause.
“Jared?” Mrs. Jaks said. “I’m home. I need some help.”
She’d phoned two days ago. After the holiday parties, he couldn’t really remember what he was doing two days ago.
The bites had healed. He didn’t feel his missing toe anymore. He should be over it by now, he thought, but as he treaded water, he wanted to get drunk, immediately. He wanted to not feel terrified or dumped or used anymore. He wanted to get out of his head and never, ever crawl back in.
“I want to shake your hand,” Mr. Wilkinson said. And he held out his hand, and he was attracting attention, so Jared reluctantly shook. “It took a lot of guts to come here. I wish I’d been as together as you are when I was your age. I’m proud of you, Jared.”
Jared started crying. Leaking tears. And then bawling and shaking. And feeling like a phony and a loser. Mr. Wilkinson wrapped his arms around him and let him cry.
