Page 139 of My Lovely Tragedy
“Sorry,” I mumble to Cobain. He flashes me a smile, seemingly nonplussed.
“I could for sure use a nap, too. And some food. I’m fuckin’ starving.” He nudges me with his shoulder. The returning twitch of my lips is pathetic at best.
“Cars pulling ‘round back,” Benji says. “We can stop for some burgers on the way.”
“Fuck yeah!” Cobain blasts while Dexter mumbles that he wants chicken.
“Well, it’s not like it matters whatyouwant, dumbass.” Benji shoves him as we all walk down the hall to the back door, leaving Jack and Helena arguing behind us. I glance over my shoulder, just barely catching a glare, before we round a corner.
I expect one of them to bring up what I said, but it’s surprisingly chill as we all climb into the SUV. I drop my head against the window, thankful for the tinted windows so none of the press is able to snap a photo of my bloodless face as we weave around the crowd and onto the busy street.
The buildings pass in a blur of steel and glass, but in my mind, I picture snow all around.
Piles of it along the curbs and against the sides of buildings. Flakes whipping in the wind and floating down and around.
Each crystal flake is such a stark contrast to Tobias’s dark, graying curls that it steals the very breath from my lungs. He smiles down at me, eyes crinkling at the corners, as I reach out to catch one, frowning as it melts right onto my skin.
He reaches out and brushes the droplet from the pad of my middle finger. “You’re much too warm.”
“I know.” I frown. Tobias grazes the edge of my mouth, tugging upward.
“And you are much too pretty to frown like that.”
His voice is so clear, it rings in my ears. I jerk up.
“Jesus.”
It takes me a moment to follow the noise over the sound of my own thrashing heart. My hands clench, and I bury them both between my thighs, digging into the leather seat.
“What do you want to eat?” A tap against my shoulder.
“Huh?” I turn.
“Food, Brooklyn. What do you want?”
“Oh.” I look out the window at the drive-thru menu. “Nothing. I’m not that hungry.” A collective wave of frowns follow suit. “Oh, for fucks sake. I’mfine.All those people just made me queasy—which isn’t anything new, as all of you well fucking know.”
Aharrumph.“Yeah, that’s fair. Fine. We’ll leave it as long as you promise to eat later,” Benji declares, eyebrows quite literally grazing his hairline.
“Don’t stroke out,” I grumble, but when he doesn’t budge, I give in. “Yeah, okay.” I wave them off to go back into the gilded cage in my mind. A place much more familiar and comfortable.
* * *
After the longest—andshittiest—nap of my life, I force myself out of the bed to follow the sound of voices with my notebook clasped under my arm. As I shuffle down the hall, I take in the white paint, the bare walls, dark colored doors.
Their apartment is actually really nice. I try not to focus on the fact they got it while I was gone because I have my own room with all of my stuff that was in storage. Most of it is still in the boxes marked with my sloppy ass handwriting, but they got me a new bed and sheets for it.
They even fucking made the damn thing, like they were certain I’d be coming home.
They didn’t move on. They didn’t forget me.
The swell of guilt that follows churns my stomach, accompanying me as I step into the living room. And just like I knew would happen, their voices stop at the sound of my arrival. I shift on my feet, hunched over and cinching Tobias’s coat tighter around me, keeping my eyes on the floor.
“Hey, B.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Wanna watch this with us?”
