Page 8 of Victorious: Part 2
What about Navy, Ellie, Dutch, and the animals? Even Rip. He’s crazy, but I can’t imagine the club without a morning of‘the waves are totally gnarly today, dudes!’And grumpy Loki, who only became happy when beautiful Bea came to the club. Hell, I can’t imagine my life without any of the people who have become my family.
“I can’t,” I exhale out a staggered breath. “I can’t think about that.”
“Then don’t,” Phoenix says firmly. “Not yet. Not until we have to.”
But the insidious thought is there now. Planted like a seed of poison.
What if wereallyare driving toward nothing?
What if Vegas is simply a pretty place to wait for the end of the world?
Neon lights and loneliness.
Dracula seems to sense my spiraling thoughts because he stands up on my lap, pressing his paws against my chest and purrs loudly. The vibration against my ribs is oddly soothing.
“He’s got the right idea,” Phoenix observes. “Live in the moment. Don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow.”
“When did a stray cat become our spiritual advisor?” I scoff.
“About the time our lives turned into a disaster movie.”
Despite everything, I laugh. It’s a small sound, fragile as spun glass, but it’s real. And Phoenix smiles in response. “There she is,” he murmurs. “There’s my Reel Girl.”
The possessive warmth in his voice does things to my chest that I’m not ready to examine.
Not when everything else is so uncertain.
But I file it away.
This moment.
That smile.
The way he’s looking at me, it’s as if I’m something precious.
Because if we really are heading toward the end of everything, thenI want to remember this.
The way Phoenix makes me feel less broken.
The way Dracula purrs like he’s trying to hold us together with sound alone.
The way the desert sun paints everything golden, making even tragedy feel beautiful.
“Vegas, here we come,” I whisper, and for the first time, it doesn’t sound like a funeral march.
Instead, it’s the slightest ounce of hope.
And if you have hope to hold onto, you can do anything.
We continue to drive, and Dracula has made himself comfortable in the space behind our seats, curled up on Phoenix’s leather jacket as though it’s his personal throne.
“Looks like he’s settled in for the long haul,” I observe.
Phoenix glances in the rearview mirror and shakes his head. “That cat has claimed us, hasn’t he?”
“Could be worse, at least he’s house-trained.”
“Yousureabout that?”
