Page 306 of Rock Me All Night
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First class is nice—big seats, soft blankets, overly friendly flight attendants who constantly push the free champagne. I say no every time. I need my head clear and staring at the puffy white clouds outside the window is helping.
After we land, I kill time at the airport. Damn San Francisco. My salad and smoothie snack sets me back twenty dollars. When there's no excuse left to stay at the terminal, I take the BART into the city and take a bus into Richmond.
My mom's place is a few blocks off the line. My suitcase hits every crack in the sidewalk, every pebble, every curb. She's working late tonight. After all, I'm supposed to arrive by car at some time well into the evening.
That leaves a solid three or four hours to work up the courage to tell my mom I'm not joining her company.
One more block. The sky is blue and bright. It's warm. It's like the city is mocking me. The second I feel like shit, the weather is nice. Where's the grey, cloudy, rainy place that had my feet wet every other day in high school?
There's someone sitting on the stoop we share with our next-door neighbor. Tall. Dark hair. Jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. Black Converse.
No.
One more step and it's clear.
That's Drew sitting on my stoop. He has bags under his eyes and an overgrown five o'clock shadow. His skin is pale. His posture is hunched.
I come closer until I'm about three feet away.
He looks up at me. There's so much in his eyes. It makes my knees weak.
I dig my fingers into my suitcase handle. "Have you slept?"
"No." His voice is steady. "I have to talk to you."
"Where the fuck have you been?"
"Driving. Thought it would help me think. Once I hit San Luis Obispo, figured I might as well keep going. Tom get you here okay?"
"First class."
"Good."
I stare at him, trying to figure out what I can possibly say. The rubber soles of my shoes squeak against the concrete as I shift my weight. He looks like he's about to break and the only thing I want to do is wrap my arms around him and promise it will be okay.
Maybe it's better to do it quickly, like a Band-Aid. It hurts for a moment, then it's over.
"Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?" He pushes himself to his feet. "I have some stuff I want to say to you."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Kara."
My eyes go to the concrete. I can't leave things like this. At the very least, I need to get my feelings off my chest.
"Want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks.
I meet his gaze. "That there's no way the 'stuff' you have to say is enough." I walk past him to climb the steps.
He grabs my suitcase from my hands and carries it for me.
God, the look on his face is so desperate. He feels as shitty as I do. That's something.
"If you need time, I'll come back." His fingertips brush my shoulder. "I have nowhere else I want to be."
I shake my head.
