*
I ROLL THE window down all the way, then stick my head out the car and yell into the wind because I am two hundred miles from you and it feels So. Fucking. Good.
“Yesssssssssssssssssss!!!!!!!”
I slip back in and Natalie grins. “Hell yes.”
I never thought my mom would let me take a road trip to LA with my friends but when my sister said she’d put us up for the weekend and introduce us to the college life, my mom said, and I quote, You’re eighteen now. The choice is up to you.
An alien attack would have surprised me less.
This is all Nat’s doing. After I called her holding that knife, she insisted we get out of town immediately. Then she called Beth for reinforcements. And Lys, obviously. Three days later: here I am, speeding away from everything that keeps me up at night.
You, of course, are pissed that I’m going. You don’t like the idea of Nat and Lys spending so much time alone with me. You’re scared they’ll come between us. News flash, Gavin: they already have. It doesn’t help that you’ve been a broken record about them. You want me to stop hanging out with them. You don’t trust them and you shouldn’t. They are not Team Gavin. Not by a long shot.
I can’t get your newest song out of my head. You played it for me the day after you got out of Birch Grove, where your parents made you go for therapy after you were discharged from the hospital. Our date ended in a screaming match because you found out I’d been to a party that Gideon was also at. Doesn’t matter that he and I barely exchanged three words and that he has a girlfriend now. It was still Fucking whore, I hate you. You’re so smart, Gav. You knew that if you survived that accident, there’s no way I could ever leave you again. Not unless I want your blood on my hands. You’re lucky your gamble paid off. Now you can do or say whatever you want, can’t you? You’ve got me right where you’ve always wanted me.
You win.
This was your song:
I watch you sleep at night
Wonder what you dream
Put my hand against the glass
Want you here with me
There’s a window between us
Thick glass all the time
Can’t seem to remember
The days when you were mine
“Okay, so I need specifics,” Nat says as we sit down at a roadside taco stand. “Exactly how many times has he watched you sleep?”
“A lot, it sounds like,” I say. “I think he’s trying to be romantic, but…”
“Nu-uh,” Lys says. She grabs a chip and scoops up some salsa. “That is so creeptastic. Like, beyond creeptastic.”
I don’t admit this, but I agree. The thought of you standing outside my window at night didn’t fill me with butterflies and rainbows, as I think you assumed it would. I mean, you weren’t trying to hide that you were doing it—you played the song for me, proud of the guitar solo halfway through.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I say.
“No, dude, I think we should role-play this,” Lys says.
“Let’s not and say we did,” I grumble. Lys and her psychoanalysis.
“Hey, in a few years, you’re gonna have to pay me, like, a hundred and fifty bucks an hour to untangle your shit. Get my expertise free while you can,” she says.
I imagine her sitting behind a desk, wearing the same outfit she has on now: a tank top that says I Slay, dangly pineapple earrings, and neon pink jeans with white stars printed on them.
“I really don’t—”
But Nat cuts me off. “I actually think Lys is right—this could really help.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
Lys grins. “Okay, I’ll be Gavin, obviously.” She lowers her voice and slouches—it’s a pretty good impression. “Hey, baby.”
Natalie snorts.
“Hey … Gavin.”
“So…” She motions for me to start talking.
“I, uh, really love your song, but … maybe you shouldn’t watch me sleep. I mean, my parents will be pissed if they find you—”
“NOPE,” Lys says. “Tell him how you feel.”
“I don’t want to do this,” I say. I shove a chip into my mouth, then another.
Lys gives an overdramatic sigh. “You’re hopeless.”
“I’m gonna put up curtains.”
Nat reaches across the table and grips my hand. “We love you. Why are you so crazy?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
But I do. All of this—the fighting, the tears, breaking Gideon’s heart—will have been for nothing if we don’t at least try to see what life would be like when I graduate. How many times have I pictured myself being able to go to all your shows, to the after-parties, without having to worry about parents or curfews? How many times have you fantasized about waking up next to me, meeting me for lunch between classes? You have an illness and you’re trying to get better. Maybe if we found the right meds, the right therapist …
Breaking up with you is too hard right now. Going away with my friends, doing senior year activities—even planning on flying solo for prom since you have a show that night—all that stuff I can do.
UCLA has a huge, sprawling campus in Westwood, a trendy part of LA. We find parking on a palm-lined street, then make our way to Beth’s Spanish-style apartment, which is located five minutes from campus.
Music blares out of an apartment on the ground floor and a guy in nothing but board shorts saunters out and lights up a joint, right there in front of us.
“Ladies,” he says, tipping an imaginary cap.
Nat stares in shock while Lys giggles uncontrollably as she heads for the stairs.
“I can’t take them anywhere,” I say to the guy with a small smile.
He grins as he holds the joint out to me. “You want?”
I shake my head, quick. It’s the first time I’ve ever been offered a smoke. I only know the smell because of the few parties I’ve gone to with you.
“She’s in high school,” Natalie says with her customary disapproving tone. She looks like a camp counselor in her khaki shorts and polo shirt.
I kick her shin.
The guy nods, unfazed. “Sucks.”
“You got that right,” I say.
Nat pulls me up the stairs after Lys. “Oh my gosh, that druggie was totally flirting with you,” she says.
“Right?” I grin and shake my hips. “Off the market, but I still got it.”
“Oh, brother.”
Sprouting wings begins with a tingle that spreads across your chest, then your whole body, all the way around to your back. It doesn’t hurt at all.
Beth opens the door on the first knock. She and I scream simultaneously and jump around.
“Your hair is blue!” I screech.
“I know!” she yells back.