His words confuse me. “Because I’m in the car?”

He nods subtly. “Yeah.”

“But… what does that even mean?”

His green eyes soften with his smile, and he leans across the seat and takes my chin into his hand. He kisses my lips and says, “You could’ve fought me tooth and nail over this. You could’ve told me to go fuck myself when I said to get our stuff. But you didn’t.” He kisses me softly one more time, and the mint from his breath lingers on my lips. “You didn’t run in that house because I told you to, you did it because it’s what you wanted. You’ve never done anything just because I told you to, Camryn. I’m just the kick in your ass, is all.”

I try to hide the smile sneaking up on my face, but I can’t. He leans over, presses his lips to my forehead, and straightens in his seat. The engine purrs aggressively for a moment when his foot taps the gas pedal.

He’s right. Anything he’s ever told me to do, even if I complained about it, I never would’ve done if a part of me didn’t want to. It amazes me how he always knows things about me before I do.

Andrew

17

I think yesterday in Chicago was the first time I couldn’t predict Camryn’s reaction to one of my demanding ideas. My girl was broken. It was scarin’ the shit outta me more every day, the person she was becoming. I took a risk calling Asher up that night and asking him to drive the Chevelle all the way to Chicago. I didn’t know what Camryn might do, and truthfully, I was worried she’d refuse to go. Because of the guilt. Hey, I hate it that we lost our Lily. I would cut off an arm or a leg to have her back. But what’s done is done, and sitting back drowning in our sorrows and refusing to do what makes us happy for any reason is total fucking bullshit. That’s how you kill yourself. A slow, painful suicide. If Camryn would’ve refused, I would’ve carried her over my shoulder, kicking and screaming, and shoved her in the backseat of the car. Because this is our life. We met on the road; we grew to know and to love each other on the road. It’s where we were meant to be for however long, and it’s what we’re going to do until it becomes clear that we were meant to do something else.

The first fourteen long hours of our road trip are uneventful and quiet. I drive the whole way from Chicago to Virginia Beach listening mostly to the radio or my CD’s when I can’t find a decent station. Camryn, although smiling and talking about the sights as we drive past, still isn’t herself, but she’ll get there. It might take her a few days, but she’ll start to come around.

The beaches are different on the East Coast than they are in Texas. They’re cleaner, and the ocean water over here looks like ocean water is supposed to and not the muddy, murky Gulf water of Galveston.

It’s late in the evening. We watched the sun set over the horizon just as we entered Virginia Beach, and it was the first time I’ve seen that spark in Camryn’s eyes since before the miscarriage. If I’d known that a sunset could do that, I would’ve taken her to watch one a long time ago.

“So, are we getting separate rooms?” she asks as we get out of the car in the parking lot of our first hotel.

I can tell she’s joking, but I bet she doesn’t expect me to call her on it.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing.” I pop the trunk and shoulder both of our bags.

“Are you serious?” She’s shocked, and it’s funny.

I just play it off the best I can. I never intended to get separate rooms, but now that she brought it up, it’s not such a bad idea.

I close the trunk, and we head into the hotel lobby.

“Andrew, I think we’re past this.”

“Two nonsmoking king rooms side by side, please, if you’ve got ’em.”

The front desk clerk taps the stuff in on her computer. I ignore Camryn for the most part, fumbling my wallet for my credit card.

“Andrew?”

“I don’t have two side by side,” the woman says, “but I do have two directly across the hall from each other.”

“That’ll work,” I say.

Camryn whispers, “I can’t believe you’re going to spend money on two rooms when clearly we’ve had tons of sex already…” Camryn just goes on and on while the clerk looks covertly at us like we’re nuts. I love that look on people’s faces, that dumbfounded I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that look.

“Please just shut up,” I say, turning to Camryn. “I’ll come over to your room and do you for a little while, don’t worry. So stop making a scene.”

Camryn’s eyes grow as wide as the clerk’s.

I take Camryn’s hand and pull her along toward the lobby exit.

“I hope you enjoy your stay,” the clerk says in a bewildered manner as we round the corner toward the elevator.

Camryn bursts out laughing the second the elevator doors close. “What was that?!” she asks, unable to contain herself. “I feel like we’re two immature sixteen-year-olds!”

“But you’re laughing,” I point out. “So it’s totally worth the immaturity.”

The elevator stops on the second floor and we step out into the hall.

“But really, Andrew, why separate rooms?”

Proving further that spontaneity really does serve a purpose, I think about the mail I had Natalie send me in Chicago as we walk the length of the hall together. We stop in the center of the hall in front of our rooms, and I drop the bags on the green-speckled carpeted floor.

“Just for tonight,” I say, reaching into my bag in search of that envelope.

Camryn stands over me, watching quietly. I can tell she wants to say something but she isn’t sure at this point what it could be.

I stand up straight with the envelope in my hand. She glances down at it, but isn’t sure what my intentions are.

“Tonight you’ll stay alone in your room,” I say and hold the envelope out to her.

She stopped smiling when I first pulled the envelope out of the bag. All she can do now is look at me in confusion and wonder.

Carefully, she reaches out and takes the envelope, still unsure of everything, maybe even whether or not she wants to know what’s inside.

I slide her card key into her room door and open it, carrying her bag inside. She follows several steps behind, wordless and suspicious, the envelope clasped in her reluctant fingers. I set her bag on the long TV stand and check out her room like I always did before. I flip the lights on and test the heater before pulling back the sheets to make sure they’re clean. Remembering Camryn’s hotel comforter phobia, I strip it completely off the bed and toss it on the floor in a corner of the room.

She stands at the foot of the bed, unmoving.

I move over to stand in front of her. I look into her eyes and just watch the way hers look back at me. I move my index finger along the edge of her eyebrow and then down the side of her face and feel her skin heat under my touch. I want her. When her eyes lowered to look at my lips, it triggered something predatory in me. But I hold my needs back for her sake. Tonight, hopefully, will be about closure.

“Cam went to the funeral,” Natalie said to me on the phone the day I called her from Aidan’s house. “But she arrived late, sat in the very back near the exit and left before the service was over. She refused to walk up to the casket.”

“Did she ever talk to you about it at all?” I asked.

“Never,” Natalie said. “And whenever I tried to bring it up, the funeral, the accident, anything about it, she shut me down.”

Tonight will be hard for Camryn, but if she doesn’t go through with it, she’ll never get better.

“You know where I’m at,” I whisper softly, letting my hands slide away from her arms. “I’ll be up all night. Started writing another song yesterday, and I really want to work on it while it’s fresh in my mind.” We’ve slowly but surely been writing our own material, especially since our trip to Chicago, and after the night we played at Aidan’s bar, Camryn expressed interest in it for some reason.