Chapter 30
I stay up the rest of the night, my brain spiraling with the whole thing—me, him, this, us.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to figure out how to get out of this thing with me.
It would be for the best, I guess, calling it quits.
Not even I can handle my own baggage. How can I expect someone else to? Plus, I’m not even who I say I am.
Finally, at five, I get up. I just want to get out of here and back on the road. To Anne and our hotel room. To my solitary life and the safety that existed before I let West in.
“You’re up,” he says, walking right in my open door.
“Do you mind if we go?”
“And not say bye to my family? That’s rude.”
It is rude, but I just don’t think I can face them.
He heaves a sigh. “Fine, whatever. But I’m going to at least wake up my Gramma and say bye.”
Grayson no longer has power over you. This is what I remind myself as I channel strength and independence—the two things I need to get back on track. But even as I channel those two things, I’m kidding myself. He does have power over me and probably always will.
I climb into the passenger side of our rental car, and we head south back to Orlando.
“Do you want to talk?” West asks.
“No.”
This answer does not sit well with him, but he turns on some music, slides sunglasses into place, and lets me be.
How stupid was I thinking I could have some sort of normalcy? What was I even doing getting involved with West? I don’t know what’s worse…hopelessness or having a taste of what’s good before it’s snatched away and ugly reality returns.
Two hours go by filled only by him driving, me staring out the window, and the music filling the car. We don’t speak. We don’t even look at each other. It’s awful.
As we pull into the hotel, my phone vibrates with an email from Brynn, and I breathe out a sigh of relief at finally getting her response.
I make a beeline for the elevator and the security of my room. West just stands in the lobby and stares after me. I’m just as confused as he looks, but I want to read her email in private.
As soon as I’m in my room, I bring it up, reading: Can’t talk. It’s not safe.
Oh, God, no. What does that mean? Please don’t let Brynn be in trouble.
Are you okay? I respond back and just stare at the phone, waiting, waiting, waiting.
But nothing comes in.
The Orlando concert comes and goes, I fall into bed late, and in the morning I load up in one of the tech vans. I just can’t bring myself to ride on the Mack Daddy bus after everything that happened.
West: Why are you avoiding me?
This is the text that comes in as we travel from Florida up to Indianapolis.
Anne sits beside me, and I catch her glancing at my phone. I ignore her and type back:
Me: Just need some time.
He doesn’t send me anything after that. I bring up my email inbox and stare at it the whole rest of the way. But still nothing comes in from Brynn.
When we get to Indianapolis, I step from the tech van. West stands across the parking lot, looking so confused and hurt that I almost go to him. Almost. But neither one of us makes a move, and then he turns first and walks away.
You’re real. That’s not easy to find in this business. That’s what he said to me, and I scoff as I recall his words.
I’m not real. I’m a liar. Maybe the best thing is to just disappear again. Run. It is what I do best.