There are houses here, expensive ones. We used to make fun of their blandness. Everything is beige. Everyone drives a black sedan or luxury car. Everyone looks perfect on the outside. Like our parents do.
Like she did.
I find an empty patch of grass and take in the view of the city. I can see the entire UCLA campus. To the left is Century City. To the right is the ocean. It's cloudy tonight. I can't see downtown. I can't see the stars.
I can't see the path to being okay without her.
My phone buzzes. It's Miles. Calling me back.
I stare at the screen. My fingers refuse to move. I'm not sure I can handle hearing his voice. It's already in my head, singing that song over and over.
Again, my phone buzzes. This time, it's a text.
Miles: Are you okay?
Meg: No.
Miles: Where are you? I'll pick you up.
Meg: Is that a good idea?
Miles: I'll take you home. If you want me to leave after that, I will.
I send him the address of the nearest house. It's pure impulse. I want him here. I want his arms around me.
Miles: What happened?
Meg: There was this girl in the ER… I'm not sure I should discuss this with you.
Miles: Let me help you. I want to.
Meg: Would you let me help you?
I stare at the phone for minutes, but there's no response. That's as good as a no.
The world is heavy. I pull my knees to my chest and bring my gaze to the sky. Still no stars but the half-moon is a beautiful shade of silver.
The neighborhood is quiet. No sounds except the wind Then there's a car. It parks. The door opens. Footsteps come closer.
Someone kneels next to me.
"Hey." Miles slides his arms around me. "Come on. You'll be okay."
I shake my head. But I soak in all the comfort of his arms anyway.