Despite the severely pressing need to relieve my bladder, I can’t look away. He looks so alone. And lost. My frustration and anger evaporate, and I finally get it.
The random waitresses and fangirls don’t see this part. They aren’t there the morning after, they don’t know about his mom, or his childhood. For them, Gavin is one-dimensional. A hot tatted-up drummer who can give them a good time. This is why he doesn’t want to cross that line with me. Because he needs me for this part, for the ugly un-fun parts of life. I wish I could make him see that I want to be both. I want to be everything. Burning bright nights and dark cloudy days. Before I take off running and throw myself in his arms like an overly emotional idiot, I escape into the restroom and pee before I burst.
Even in the ladies’ room everything is gray, utilitarian. The tile on the floor, the concrete walls. The paper towel dispenser is even gray and has a hand crank. After I’ve washed and dried my hands, I glance at my reflection.
Oh my holy sweet baby Jesus, I look like an extra on The Walking Dead. My skin is pale under the harsh fluorescents and my hair is a certifiable mess. I splash some cold water on my face then take my hair down and plow my fingers through it in the most comblike manner I can manage before pulling it into a high ponytail. Thankful for the toothbrush I packed in my purse, I use it and feel marginally less like a rumpled pile of dirty laundry.
Gavin’s shirt is a size too big on me and I know I’m still a hot mess, but when I walk out of the restroom, his eyes land on me and he doesn’t appear to be the least bit concerned about how I look. He looks happy to see me so I smile. I’m glad to be here for him. Even though I know our one night is a thing of the past, a fantasy that will have to remain just that. Swallowing the pain and regret, I make my way toward him.
“Find someone?” I lower myself into the seat beside him.
“I did.” He breathes deep, like it’s the first breath he’s taken in days. “The first two said they couldn’t do it because she’s failed to appear in court in the past. But the third guy said he just charges a higher rate in cases like hers.”
“So . . .”
“So I have to come up with fifteen hundred bucks like now. He’ll be here in an hour.”
I glance at the digital display on my phone. It’s almost nine. If we get out of here by ten and stop by to see Papa, we can be on the road by eleven and we’ll make sound check by the skin of our teeth.
“I have three hundred dollars to my name. It’s yours if you need it.” The regret flashes in his eyes and I see the shame there. So I place my hand on his knee and squeeze. “You can pay me back later. It’s not a big deal. You’d do it for me.”
He stares at me so intently I have to look away.
“I mean, if Papa gets picked up for murdering all of crazy Mrs. Lawson’s cats, you’re going to help me pay for his defense attorney, right?”
Gavin finally cracks a smile and the tension eases in my chest. “Of course. That puts us at eight hundred. I’m still short seven hundred bucks and the car needs gas.” He scrolls through his phone for several minutes before standing. “I’m going to step outside and make a few calls. You okay in here alone?”
“I’m basically surrounded by cops and security guards. I think I’ll be all right.”
His eyes shift as if this makes him uncomfortable for some reason, but he nods and heads toward the same doors we entered.
Watching him walk outside, I can’t help but wonder who he’s calling. I try not to concern myself too much because if he wanted me to know he would’ve told me, but there are so many gaps in my knowledge about Gavin I can hardly stand it. The year I was in Houston, we didn’t keep in touch and Dallas’s vague comments have turned that year into a mysterious back hole that I fear I’ll never get answers about.
There aren’t any magazines or anything, so I just curl up on the chair and close my eyes. There’s really nothing else I can do. And I need to rest if I’m driving us back to Austin in a few hours.
Chapter 18