Hawk glanced around the kitchen, a content smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Everything looked fucking perfect - like the set of a romance movie. He couldn't wait to see the look on Sky's face when she walked in and saw this.
He had finished the preparations ages ago, nervous to get everything done in time. The table was set for two - he had used the fine plates Mom saved for special occasions - the roses were beautifully arranged in their vases, the candles were waiting to be lit, and the food on the stove filled the kitchen with a delicious, rich smell. The small gift-wrapped box containing the phoenix pendant was in his pocket, waiting for the perfect moment - which would no doubt come somewhere between finishing the meal and making out on the couch in the basement.
There was only one problem.
Sky was running late, and Hawk couldn't help the uneasiness that was starting to form a knot in his stomach.
He observed the food on the pans and post and picked up the wooden spoon, trying not to think about the fact that it was already six thirty. It wasn't unlike Sky to be late, he knew that. She'd be here at any minute, and he just had to make sure the food was still edible by the time she got here. That shouldn't be too hard, but still, he was worried. Mom had helped him to prepare three different kinds of taco fillings - chicken, black peas, and ground beef - and of course, spicy salsa, guacamole, and pico de gallo. The corn tortillas Hawk had purchased this afternoon waited on the counter wrapped in a cloth - he just needed to pop them into the microwave before serving the food and everything would be perfect. The scent of tomato, coriander, and garlic filled the house, making Hawk's mouth water and his stomach growl.
His frown deepened as he glanced at the clock on the wall.
Where the fuck is she? She said she'd be here at six—
The food was already getting cold, and letting out a silent curse, Hawk turned the stove back on. He had begged Mom to leave half an hour ago - who in their right mind would allow their mom to be home during a romantic date night? - but now he kinda hoped Mom was still here. He was painfully aware of the fact that trying to re-heat the food he might just as well end up burning it. And when Sky finally arrived, the kitchen would be filled with smoke instead of this mouth-watering scent, and the food would be inedible.
Shit. This is a fucking disaster… I shouldn't have asked Mom to go—
Furiously stirring the ground beef on the pan with one hand, Hawk fished his phone from his pocket with the other. Almost quarter to seven— and they had agreed to meet at six. Even if Sky was often running late, this really wasn't like her. She hadn't even texted.
Hawk dialed her number and brought the phone to his ear, the uneasy feeling digging a hole into his stomach. He let the phone ring for a long time, but Sky didn't pick up.
This wasn't even the first time he tried to reach her. In fact, he had sent her several texts during the afternoon - just cute little things, letting her know how excited he was about the date, sending heart emojis, asking if she was getting ready, or what she was going to wear (He hoped she'd show up in pink. High heels would be a dream come true.) It hadn't worried him too much, that she hadn't read the messages or replied - she had said she was going to take a shower and a nap before the date, but now—
She couldn't still be sleeping, could she?
The thought of Sky missing their date because she couldn't be bothered to set up the alarm, made something twist painfully in Hawk's chest. Here he was, giving everything he had to impress her, and she wasn't even going to show up?
Did She really care that little about him? She had said she loved him, that she wanted to start dating again, but if that was true, then why wasn't she here already?
If she didn't want him after all, all she had to do was to fucking say so. Standing him up like this— Well, it made him feel like an idiot. Annoyance brought a bitter taste onto Hawk's lips, and he tossed the wooden spoon into the sauce, making some beef and tomato spill onto the stove and his shirt.
Fucking Hell—!
With a muttered curse, he turned off the stove and examined the large, red stain in his yellow T-shirt. Jesus fucking Christ, now I need to change again—
But what was the point of changing, or trying to keep the food hot, if Sky wasn't even going to be here? Her absence and the fact she hadn't even picked up the phone to let him know she wasn't coming, hurt Hawk more than he wanted to admit. Leaning onto the sink, he picked up his phone again, scrolling through the messages he had sent that now felt stupid, pathetic. He should have played it cool— girls didn't like guys who were too needy, too desperate. He shouldn't have texted anything. No wonder she was having second thoughts about this whole thing—
But what if something's wrong?
That thought was sudden and piercing. His chest went tight and heavy. What if this wasn't just Sky having second thoughts or forgetting to set up her alarm? What if something bad had happened? A horrible, cold feeling crept up to Hawk's heart, clenching it tight. His former annoyance was now completely gone, replaced by fear. Sky had said she was tired, that she wasn't sleeping well. She could have gotten into an accident while driving here—
Shit. I should have picked her up— Why the fuck didn't I?
He tried her number again - pick up, pick up, pick up - his foot tapping the floor with a restless beat. The food on the stove, the candles, and the roses were now completely forgotten, he barely remembered he was so hungry that his belly ached. All he could think about was Sky - the look on her face when she'd walked away from him in the parking lot after school. She'd been acting weird, but he hadn't thought that much about it - Hell, he had been nervous about their first date too - but now the memory of her worried, pale face slithered its way into his mind. She hadn't been herself, something had been wrong, and he had been too stupid to notice—
God— what if she was doing drugs again? That thought felt like a punch in the gut. What if she'd been so nervous about the date that she had relapsed? If that was the case, he would never forgive himself.
U okay?
I'm worried
please call me
He sent the texts with a slight tremor in his fingers, and stared at the screen for some time, waiting for them to be read, but nothing happened. His heart grew heavy. Maybe it wasn't drugs— it could be something else equally awful. She could have gotten into a car accident. Or maybe she had slipped in the shower? Or fallen down the stairs—
Anything could have happened.
A sudden, twisting pain clenched Hawk's chest at the memory of Sky lying on the floor in front of the stairs on the day of the school fight. The wound in her temple, her arm bent unnaturally under her body, the blood staining her pale face—
No. Shit, I can't think like this— She's just running late. I'm sure everything is fine—
But he was already scrolling through the contacts, his thumbs fast and shaky on the screen of his phone. He had to know— He couldn't just stand here in the middle of the kitchen and do nothing. He had to know if she was alright.
The phone rang for a long time before Nicholas finally picked up.
"Who's this?" Nicholas' voice was harsh, raw, and with a painful jolt Hawk realized he hadn't recognized the caller— which meant he had deleted Hawk's number from his contacts at some point.
It hurt, but he couldn't blame Nicholas. Hawk knew he had treated Sky like crap. It was no wonder her Dad had wanted nothing to do with him.
"Hey— umm, it's me, Eli—" Hawk's cheeks grew hot as he stammered the words out, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Sorry for bothering you, sir, but—"
"Eli—" Nicholas' voice broke. "This— this isn't a good time."
Something in his voice made Hawk's chest turn tight. He gripped the phone on his ear a bit harder, his whole body grew tense like a string.
"Please, wait— is Sky there? She's not picking up her phone, and we were supposed to— she was supposed to be here like an hour ago, and I was— I was wondering if everything's okay?"
There was a silence at the other end of the line, the kind of heavy, thick silence that turned the air cold inside Hawk's lungs. He pressed the phone tighter against his ear, but the only thing he could hear was some muffled sounds in the background as if someone was crying.
Sky— Oh God, she's crying—
"Is she alright?" he rasped. "Nicholas! What's going on?"
"No— no, she's not alright," Nicholas' voice broke. "Eli— it's Cody. Cody Bishop."
Suddenly Hawk felt like he couldn't breathe. A wave of fear washed over his body, bringing a sharp taste of steel onto his lips. Cody? Oh my God, if he's hurt her—! He has a gun—
"What did he do? Nicholas—! Did he do something to Sky?"
Nicolas drew in a sharp breath, and it came out as a couple of broken sobs. Hawk had never heard him make a sound like that— but no, that wasn't true, he had heard that sound before, a million years ago on that awful afternoon in Sky's room, when they had found her on the bed after she'd tried to kill herself. Suddenly the phone in Hawk's hand grew heavy as if it was made of lead. If Cody had hurt Sky, if he had done something to her—
He would kill that asshole. He would rip his spine out through his mouth.
"He shot himself," Nicholas groaned, his voice breaking. "Eli— he shot himself in the head. Cody is dead."
The phone almost slipped from Hawk's suddenly numb fingers. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
"What?" He gasped, barely getting the word out. "What— are you sure? What happened?!"
Another stained, strangled breath. Nicholas' voice came out thin, strengthless. "I'm sorry Eli, I— I can't talk right now. Sky needs me."
"No, no, wait—"
But Nicholas had already hung up, and Hawk was alone in the kitchen, gripping the phone in his fingers that were shaking and cold as ice. He leaned heavily on the counter, fighting the nausea that made his ears ring.
Cody was— Cody was dead?
Like a punch in the face came the memory of the fight in the parking lot. Cody's raw, bitter tears— the way his voice had shattered when he'd cried "You should have just killed me–! You should– should've just killed me– I'd rather be dead— than be without her."
No. God, No—
This can't be happening— this can't be—
Swallowing down the bile that tried to climb up his throat, he pushed the phone into the pocket of his jeans, grabbed his car keys and ran out of the house.
