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Ryan was sick. He was shaking with chills and sweating and every time he'd doze off, the need to vomit would wake him up. His head was pounding, pulsing with pain. He hadn't made it to the main house yet for his 'birthday party'. After Kirsten's last visit, he had promised to join her in the main house in a short while, that he would be right behind her, but he didn't feel like moving.
His mother wasn't going to call. His fucking father was calling, the man that hadn't had any words for him in years, but his mother wasn't calling. Fuck her. He shouldn't have expected her to call but every year it was the same. He'd force himself not to get his hopes up, but every year he'd get his hopes up. She never remembered. He wasn't sure she knew the exact date of his birth.
There was a soft knock on the door of the poolhouse and then Sandy stepped in. He didn't look happy. He looked worried. Ryan wondered what he had done this time to make his guardian look like that.
"What's up, Sandy?" Ryan called.
"Hey, kid. How're you feeling?"
"I'm still planning on coming inside, I just got…distracted. I feel like hell," Ryan admitted. It was easier for him to talk to Sandy than to Kirsten. Sandy always tried to understand where Ryan was coming from, he went out of his way to listen to whatever Ryan would say. He never said that he wanted to be Ryan's father, he acted more like a friend. Ryan had respect for Sandy. It was more than he could say about the other adults he'd been around.
"I'm sure Kirsten will be back in a little while to check your temperature again…"
"What's up, Sandy?" Ryan could see that Sandy was building up for something and he didn't feel like waiting for the man to spit it out.
"Kirsten said that your father had called you," Sandy sighed. He sat down in the chair across from Ryan's bed.
"He did."
"What did he say?"
"I didn't really give him a chance to say anything. I have nothing to say to him," Ryan shrugged.
"Did he say where he was?" Sandy asked immediately.
Ryan gave Sandy a long look. Sandy knew where his father was. "He's in jail."
"Did he say he was in jail?" Sandy replied.
Shit. Did his dad get out of jail? Was he looking for him? Shit. "No, Sandy. He didn't say he was in jail, I just assumed…what do you know?"
"He's out, Ryan," Sandy replied.
Ryan lost his breath. He visibly flinched at Sandy's words. "Out? What does that mean?"
"There was a prison break a couple of days ago, Ryan. Your father escaped and the police are looking for him."
Ryan didn't respond. His dad was out. His father was out of jail and was calling him. God, everything seemed to make more sense now. David was on the run from the cops and needed help. All his old contacts were probably still locked up and Trey was locked up, too. Trey would've known how to reach Ryan and for damn sure, Trey knew what was going down. David was reaching out to Ryan because he needed his help.
"Ryan?"
"I didn't know, Sandy," Ryan whispered. He didn't know. If he had known, he would've done things differently. He couldn't call the cops on him, that wouldn't be right.
"I know," Sandy responded immediately. He paused like he was trying to think of what to say.
Ryan couldn't think. His dad was out. Out. Out of jail. Back on the streets. Looking for him. Shit. He closed his eyes and leaned his pounding head back against the pillows.
"Ryan?"
Shit, he'd forgotten about Sandy.
"Can we skip the festivities, Sandy? I really don't feel like coming inside."
"Not even for your birthday?" Sandy asked after a beat.
It's strange that a day held such significance for them. Of course, it held some significance for him, too but this was the first time that anyone had tried to celebrate it. Usually, he'd celebrate with a bottle of some sort of alcohol or a blunt but no one had ever planned anything to celebrate it.
"I know you're sick, Ryan but today's still your birthday…"
"I'll come in, Sandy," Ryan said. He stood up before Sandy could say anymore. If they wanted him inside, he'd go inside. Right after he threw up.
*****