Page 46 of Blinding Lights

“Right. So…” I trail off, having no idea what I’m supposed to do next.

“So…I’m going to go. Thank you again. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again sometime in the future.”

“I’m sure we will.”

While she’s saying exactly what I should be saying to her, the words don’t sit well in my chest, and I find myself having to force a smile. Something I’m kind of a pro at. And while I’m sure Lily notices, she graciously pretends otherwise.

With a smile of her own, she lifts to her toes and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek, sending a wave of warmth through me as her lips brush the corner of my mouth.

Everything about this feels wrong until a haunting memory assaults my mind. A vision of my mom lying on the ground as a camera flashes around us.

This is for the best.

“Thanks for keeping this antisocial asshole company for a while,” I joke to lighten the mood between us, instinctively knowing that Lily needs it as much as I do. “You made these events a little more bearable.”

Lily adorably snorts, hiding it behind her hand. “I don’t believe that for a second. Admit it—it wasn’t half as nerve-racking as you thought it would be.”

“Fine. You’re right. Though you made it all much better.”

“Likewise. Thank you again. I’ll see you around, Beckett.” She waves as she walks away, biting back a smile that I now have engrained in my mind. “And have a safe flight home,” she calls back with a laugh, and my heart stills.

Because while I’ve quickly grown to love San Francisco and have never felt more comfortable in my surroundings, for the first time, I don’t want to leave the state I grew up in, and I kind of wish it was still my home.

I wake up feeling hungover after only two drinks, and it’s safe to say, it has nothing to do with alcohol.

The fog can only come from putting my body and soul through a range of emotions I’ve been avoiding for years. It’s like I’ve relapsed. Allowed myself to feel things I buried deep for good reason.

Caring only leads to heartache for all parties involved, and I’m lucky Lily saw the train coming before it took us both out.

After a cold shower to snap myself out of it, I toss my toothbrush and razor into my bag and zip it up, preparing myself for another hit of the heavy when Atlas undoubtedly grills me on the way to the airport.

I’m slow to make my way downstairs, arriving with only a minute to spare, and no one seems surprised.

I offer a rushed goodbye to the group, which thankfully doesn’t include Lily or my sister, and walk with Atlas to the valet, waiting quietly for his car to arrive. With a blank stare, I focus on the gardens in front of me until the roar of an engine draws my attention, and I glance up to see Atlas smirk as a ’66 Chevelle SS pulls up in front of us.

“You would have the loudest car here.” I walk around to the back and wait for Atlas to open the trunk before loading my bag in.

“And the fastest.” He winks with an obnoxious grin, making me think of my sister. That’s something she would do.

“Still drive like you’re in the Indy 500?” I ask as I close the trunk, sneaking one last glance back at the hotel.

“Only way to drive, my brother.” He laughs and while being called brother would usually elicit some kind of nostalgic guilt, in this instance, it sinks into my mind with no emotional attribution, like I’ve grown numb to the feeling. Most likely because I’ve been feeling it too much lately.

We’re a few minutes into the drive, with my head once again trapped in the clouds, when Atlas taps his fingers on the steering wheel and it triggers a memory from my teens.

“Wait, is this Pop’s car?” My eyes flash to his as a proud smile lights up his features.

“Yeah, I finished restoring her after he passed. Even got her painted the cherry red he wanted too.”

“Man, he would have loved this.” I reach forward, sliding my hand across the pristine dash as a new nostalgia rolls through me. “Remember when we were what, fifteen, and got caught taking her for a joyride?” I add, an unrecognizable excitement in my tone.

Atlas laughs, pulling me from the moment as he shakes his head. “Leave it to us to get pulled over by Pop’s best friend on the force. I swear he was just waiting for us.”

“I think we mowed Pop’s lawn for at least three summers after that.”

“Yeah, not to mention being his personal errand boys, too.”

“Do you think he ever told your parents?” I wonder aloud, though I’m almost certain he didn’t.