Trying not to panic, I called her. The chirpy voice of her voicemail made my headache worse and I chewed on my lip to prevent myself from screaming. 
                          
"Hey, baby." Some guy I had never seen before flung his arm around my shoulders. "Wanna have some fun?"
                          
He was totally wasted and made me sick. I slid away from under his arm and gave him a little push for good measures, the result was that he toppled over. Bastard. In that moment, I hated the entire male species.
                          
Desperate to get fresh air, I stormed outside. It was freezing, a few snow flurries blowing around. My arms wrapped around my chest as goose bumps spread under my thin shirt. I should go back in and get my coat, but I was terrified to run into the guy again – or worse – Conor. I would probably lose it if I had to see his smirking face.
                          
Thoughts were racing in my mind, but ultimately, I only had one other option to ask for help – Kade. He would be furious and disappointed – probably going to lecture me until the end of times – but desperate moments called for desperate measures.
                          
He picked up almost immediately. 
                          
"Hey, Kade, it's Rena."
                          
"Oh hi, mom," his voice echoed back. 
                          
I frowned. "Kade? Can you hear me?"
                          
"It's my mom," he remarked to someone who had to be with him. "If you'd excuse me, Mr. Rose."
                          
I froze at the sound of the name of my probation officer. What the hell was going on? I heard footsteps and a sliding door closing which reminded me of our kitchen door. After a second, another door closed – if Kade was at my apartment, he had to be in my dad's bedroom.
                          
"Rena, where the hell are you?" Any friendliness had vanished from his voice, he was fuming.
                          
"Kade, I know I screwed up, but please can we talk about this later." A lump built in my throat and I wiped my eyes on my shirt. "I can't find Patrice and need you to come and get me."
                          
"Okay, what's the address?" The tension seeped through the line and more tears rolled down my cheeks.
                          
I wiped my eyes again and squinted at the street signs which were luckily lit by a dim street light. "I'm close to the Northwestern Campus. I don't know the exact address but it's almost at the corner of Simpson and Sherman Avenue."
                          
"Okay, don't move. I'll be there as soon as I can."
                          
The next half hour was excruciating. My eyes stayed fixed on the display of my phone to count down the minutes. The wind had picked up and hopping up and down was my only option to stay halfway warm, but the dull ache in my lower torso hit too close to home that I rather shivered. Nausea clawed at me again. My fist punched the hood of a car hard, a low growl escaping me. I was furious at myself. The car didn't seem to mind, but my wrist hurt afterwards.
                          
Kade's Lexus finally pulled up and I slid into the passenger seat. 
                          
"Where's your coat?" he asked with a frown.
                          
"Can we just go, please?" I countered in response. 
                          
Our eyes interlocked and the burning anger was replaced by worry. 
                          
"Are you alright, Rena?"
                          
With a clenched jaw, I nod my head. "Please, just drive," I whispered and turned my head towards the side window when tears spilled from the corner of my eyes like a waterfall.
                          
Without a further word, he took off with screeching tires. For a long time, we rode in silence while I wept quietly in my seat. I was an expert at that. Brent had hated when I had cried in front of him, always calling me a drama queen. When he had been in a bad mood, he would sometimes hit me in the mouth and growl 'Now you have a reason to cry', so I had always tried for him not to notice.