“I can see there’s something. Please tell me. We’re probably about the same age. Maybe I can help you,” she pleaded, her expression sincere.

“Why would you want to do that? How did you become such a nice person?” I asked, as I tried to pull myself together.

“I believe I have my dad to thank for that. He was always a nice guy and he liked people. I guess he passed that on to me,” she said, with a smile.

“Well, I don’t have one of those. I have Wanda—my screwed up aunt—and a mother who never wanted to know me,” I said.

“Yeah…she seems pretty screwed up. I’ve waited tables here for five years and I’ve seen a lot of people. But I’ve never seen one quite like her,” she said.

I watched this girl and how calm and happy see seemed—no fidgeting or anxiousness. I so badly wanted what she had.

“She’s screwed up for sure.” I was biting at my bottom lip and wringing my hands. Every time someone showed me any kindness or concern, I just wanted to blurt out all that had gone down…confess to everything. My heart ached to have the comfort of knowing someone was there for me and could help me out of this mess.

So lost in my thoughts of wishing to be someone else in another place and time, I gasped at the sound of her voice when she spoke again.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I’m twenty,” I answered, staring up at the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with her. If she only knew what I’d been through.

“Why don’t you take off and spread your wings, girly. You’re old enough to do what you want. I took off at sixteen and now I’m right where I want and need to be. You could do that, too.”

She patted my hand in reassurance and gave me another one of her sweet smiles before she headed back to work.

I stood there for a minute thinking about what she’d said. I’d been given the same advice from different people recently and I wondered how those strangers knew what I was capable of when they didn’t even know me.

When I came out of the bathroom, everyone was busy eating. Mason’s expression changed the instant he saw me. He patted the spot next to him for me to take a seat. Just as I expected, a plate of pancakes with strawberries and eggs sat in my spot.

“You okay?” he said softly.

Aunt Wanda shot me a look as well, waiting for a response.

“No, I’m not,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Aunt Wanda didn’t look away and she didn’t ask what was wrong. I’m sure she thought if she stared at me long enough she’d figure it out on her own.

I picked up my fork and stabbed at my pancakes, imagining they were Wanda. I knew it was obvious to everyone that I’d been crying.

Mason gave me a confused look and went back to eating.

“Virginia isn’t so bad,” Mason said with a hint of amusement in his tone.

I looked up at Wanda and Payton to see if they’d caught his sarcasm.

“It’s a shit hole,” Payton said, breaking her silence.

Mason leaned back in the booth, a big smirk on his face.

JULY 4

TH

“COME ON, WE ONLY HAVE an hour,” Mason said, pacing the hotel room.

I lifted my head out from underneath the cover. It had been two days since I’d gotten out of bed. Life didn’t feel worth living at the moment, so I saw no reason to get out of bed.

I always knew this would happen sooner or later. All I was doing was waiting…waiting for the axe to fall…waiting to be thrown into jail. I’d never felt so helpless or so discouraged. I had no answers and I didn’t know where to go to get them. The anxiety and paranoia had taken over my life, and I was facing an unknown fate.

Mason clapped his hands and ripped the covers off me. He wasn’t willing to deal with my depression any longer. Every time I felt the walls closing in on me, I fell into a dark despair, never sure if I’d come back up again. Mason chose to ignore it.

“Mason, I’m in no mood to see fireworks,” I said, blowing my hair from my eyes.

He crawled into bed and curled up next to me. “Come on, Kendall. There’ll be a ton of people. We’ll just be another random face in the crowd. And look,” he said, jumping up and pulling sunglasses and hats off the dresser, “we’ll be incognito.”

“I don’t even like fireworks. You know this. I just want to sleep. Just stop it already,” I said, groaning. I dropped my head back down on the pillow.

“Fine, lay here in your misery and become one of them,” he yelled at me. His fists were balled up at his side like he was ready to hit something.

I ignored his show of aggression. “What, exactly, is one of them?”

Mason spun on his heels, throwing his hands in the air. He was so angry. “Those two women over there think they’ve got it all figured out and they’re ruining our lives.” He sat down on the bed. “They never find any enjoyment in life.”

“Well, of course not, it’s Payton and Wanda. They don’t enjoy anything,” I said. I sat up and pulled the covers off me.

“They’re going nowhere. They have no idea what they want. It’s an endless chase in pursuit of what? Wanda says it’s California. My mom wants to go overseas. It’s never happened, and it ain’t going to,” he said, tapping me on the leg.

“Don’t you see that, Kendall? They don’t care because they have nothing to lose. If I have something to live for, I’ll make it,” he said.

I sighed. Mason had an uncanny way of spinning crap into golden rays of sunshine. He kept going on about how much fun we’d have and how much we needed this.

“I have to shower. So give me ten minutes,” I told him as he carried on.

“Let’s say fifteen,” he said, grabbing my wrist. He backed me into the bathroom, kissing me.

“Mason…” I said nothing further.

He pulled away and studied my face, waiting for my protest.

I sighed in compliance as I pulled his shirt over his curly mop of disheveled hair.

“You really need a haircut.”

“Well, you see, I haven’t had time to do that with all the robberies and all.” He smiled, coming in for another kiss.

I ran my hands through his hair, pulling it away from his beautiful eyes. I tried to imagine what he’d look like with short hair.

“I guess I couldn’t see you any other way,” I said softly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I accept you with your wild Mexican fro,” I said, laughing.

“My father was Puerto Rican. And I get most of my looks from my mother.” He pushed at me playfully.

I wriggled out of my clothes. Reality came rushing back in place of our moment or two of frivolity. Mason sensed it and opened the shower door for me.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he said, touching my shoulder.

“I know.”

“You’re the one good thing in the midst of this chaos,” he said, running his fingers through my hair. The water crashed down on my head. He shut the shower door, enclosing us in the steam.

“You keep telling me that,” I said, closing my eyes.

“Why can’t you just believe it?” he asked. I opened my eyes, water trailing down my face. Mason wiped it away. I could see how much it pained him to see me unhappy.

“I don’t know what to believe,” I sighed. “I just don’t know how.”

After our shower we hurried downtown to see the fireworks. Luckily, we weren’t far from them. I tugged my hat lower on my head, my ponytail hitting the back of my neck.

Mason pulled me through the thick crowd of people. He was right, there were a ton of people. I held tight to his hand, my feet hesitant.

The crowd was so loud I couldn’t have said anything to him and be heard if I’d wanted to. The aroma of different foods and beer filled my senses. Hoots and hollers of random people enjoying the celebration filled my ears.