“Do you think she blames herself?”
“I don’t know, man. Probably.” I stretched out on the reclined seat
of my Chevy and pulled the bill of my hat lower over my eyes.
“But do you think she’s okay?”
I didn’t answer him. I certainly hadn’t been okay when Whitney died
and Kimber was even closer to her mom than I was to my sister. She was
definitely not okay.
“Sam, seriously. I’m fucking freaking out here, it’s been two days.”
I pushed my hat up off of my face and looked over at Kyle who was
admittedly a wreck. His eyes were bloodshot, his face sallow and his red
hair was greasy.
“Dude, her mom committed suicide. You how close Kimber was to her mom. She just needs some time but she’ll be okay.”
“She hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls. I’ve left her like nine voicemails, man, I think I’m going crazy.”
“You just have to give her space.”
“Yeah, but she’s my- my-…” He still couldn’t say it around me. “I’m supposed to be looking after her.”