Page 178 of Beautiful Venom

“It’s a why Maine all of a sudden?”

“I want to see my hometown again. Can you come with me?”

There’s only one answer to that question.

Especially when she’s looking at me with a softness I’ve never seen before. Maybe there’s also a smidge of fear, but I understand that.

She probably thought she’d never step foot in Maine again.

I’ve seen the footage of her parents’ deaths. While she was watching it, I heard her murmur that she never wanted it to happen.

I know deep down that she blames herself for their deaths, which is probably why she never went back to Maine.

But right now, she wants to heal, and I’ll be part of that trip.

* * *

My and Dahlia’s understanding of road trips is entirely different.

For me, it’s simply driving and reaching the destination.

For Dahlia, however?

It’s a bizarre experience, to say the least.

She stuffed the car full of snacks, has blasted obnoxiously loud music, and has been singing her heart out—out of tune.

Oh, and apparently, we both need to power off our phones so that it’s distraction-free. She proceeded to do that and lock the phones in the glove compartment so we don’t have to ‘worry about anything we left behind.’

“That was amazing! Phew.” She grins as the song comes to an end. “Maybe the radio will repeat it.”

“I hope not. It was painful to hear the first time around.”

“Rude!” She hits my shoulder. “What’s your favorite song? Let’s see how you sound, Mr. Captain.”

“I don’t have one.” I focus on the road, the early-morning light painting the sky a deep magenta.

“No way.” She lowers the volume as the DJ speaks in the background. “I know you said you don’t listen to music much, but you must listen to something. Instrumental, maybe? Classical or jazz or, like, cool theme music?”

“Not really. It’s distracting.”

She sits sideways facing me as she stuffs her mouth full of gummies. “You’re like an alien. Hold on. How about a favorite movie?”

“MaybeThe Game?”

“I don’t even know what that is. Mine isScream.”

I laugh. “What a cliché.”

“At least you know what movie that is, unlike your pretentious choice.”

“Pretentious?”

“Yup.” She shoves a few gummies in my mouth. “You don’t even eat candy. What a pretentious, posh boy.”

I chew on the disgusting things, their extensive sweetness flooding my taste buds. “I’m an athlete. We should watch our diet, Ms. Medicine Major.”

“It’s okay once in a while. I bet you haven’t had anything sweet since you were a kid.”

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