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I was suddenly confused, staring at the old Plymouth we were riding in. It was Avery's moms' car; white with blue-gray seats. It looked an awful lot like those unmarked cop cars we used to see outside the courthouse downtown. Avery called it the Narc.
"Back to sleep? What do you mean? I don't remember getting in. What did Deanna say?" My chest tightened as the questions kept coming. "Did you talk to her?"
Avery turned her eyes from the road to look me over. "You really don't remember?"
"Remember what?"
"You were right there at the dining table. You and Deanna talked for a long time. Well, I did most of the talking. I told her how much you need this, Angel. You talked about Rosa and how hard things have been for you at school. Then, you started crying about Jake leaving . . . and, well, she totally bought it." She clapped her hands together, grinning. "Dude, we had her feeling so sorry for you." Avery shrugged. "What's a few lies among thieves?"
"She said I could go?"
Avery's eyes widened as she shook her head. "Well, first, she said it was a terrible idea, and she smoked a few cigarettes-I can't believe she started again-and I reminded her you're a free bird soon, either way. This is your chance at building a future where you don't become a fucking statistic like every other foster kid that's homeless when they age-out."
My heart was pounding like the bass drums in the breakdown of One. I imagined Lars Ulrich, if he heard, would've been proud my heart could keep time with his double kicks.
"By the end of her third cigarette, she agreed that she had to let you go. You really don't remember any of this?"
I shook my head.
"Maybe you blocked it out. She was kind of screaming when she finally gave in. Hey, have you been taking your Clozapine on time?"
I nodded, "Yeah. I take it every night before bed because it makes me so dizzy."
The static radio signal completely cut out and the car grew quiet. After a moment, Avery chuckled, "Well, shit. I guess you'll have to take my word for it. So be happy knowing that she was pissed, but being cool about all of this. Oh! And I haven't even told you the best part, yet." Her eyes were glowing as she described the reason we had gotten on the road as soon as humanly possible.
"Your Jake and his Analog Controller will be in Tempe, at their hotel, as you know. But I talked to Max and he told me they're doing an interview with a newspaper there. I heard they might be on the radio, too."
My mouth fell open. The dry desert air immediately zapped the moisture from it while the depth of what Avery said sank in, bone deep. My whole body was simultaneously seized by sadness and extreme joy. "I can't go back. I can't thank her."
"You did. And, hello? McFly?" Avery knocked on my head. "Focus. We're starting a whole new life, Angel! We are masters of our own destiny. We get to watch both auditions. We get to soak up the California sunshine."
Avery wanted to keep the conversation to the positive side. So I let her. It was easier to let myself concentrate on the fun we were about to have: meeting up with the tour, watching the shows, lying out on hot, sunny beaches and spending the rest of my life on one with Jake.
I never felt so high in my life. My spirit lifted from the bitter earth and into wild euphoria. I never wanted to come back down. I wanted to stay up, up in the air with Avery, with Jake and his music. Forever. And for the first time in my life, that seemed like a possibility.
We were in an area between radio stations-between worlds-leaving one to begin another. And I don't remember if I spoke the thought out loud or not, but somehow we ended up in a deep conversation about the power of music, which got me talking about Jake. Naturally.
"It's like, he creates words that have a power to bring me to life."
Avery eyed me, switching her gaze between me and the road. "That's so profound."
I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic, but I hoped not, because I meant it. Avery had a way of looking in and seeing everything and her deep green eyes made me think she was being serious. I distinctly remember smiling back, feeling thankful that she chose to use her powers of persuasion for good instead of evil.
Jakes eyes were like two hazel windows that led into an old soul. In them, I saw purity. Even when they were glossed with alcohol, there was wisdom looking back from inside. Jake had the kind of eyes that drilled a deep, pointed sense of focus into you. The kind that changed your biology. He was mysterious. There was a spark in his stare. When he looked at me there was no one else. It was a mystery and a miracle that Jake could carry such surety and purity and release it so freely in his music.
My insides twisted with anticipation every time I thought about the show. Because I knew better than anybody how Analog Controller could move a room. There would be a sick mosh pit going, I just knew it. Jake liked to jump in with the crowd when the music allowed. But sometimes, he would just play and watch.
I imagined how the bodies would be packed shoulder to shoulder; the crowd moving as one when they played Killing Season.
Underneath the night sky,
Underneath the moon,
My dead dreams come crashing down,
Littering the tombs.
But I stay alive drinking from your veins,
