Page 52 of Saints & Sailors

“Do any of us belong anywhere?” Dreux drawled.

I lifted my gaze to his. “What?”

He shrugged. “Life sucks, get over it. From the moment you got here, all you’ve done is walk around pissed off. Being pissed isn’t going to solve anything.”

I didn’t need anything solved. I had every reason to be pissed off. And now I just wanted to be left alone. “I don’t need anyone!”

Doubt crossed Dreux’s face. “Yes, you do. We all need someone, even when it feels like everyone is walking away. No one is meant to go this road alone.”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” What, his issues were consumed by a broken heart by a girl named after a witch, and then he had an asshole father who at least shelled out for a nice car?

Dreux squatted down to my level, not even flinching when a car drove by, seeing our chaotic scene before them. “I’ve got shit, everyone’s got shit, but it’s what you do with it that counts.” He gestured to my hand, or really my anchor tattoo. “Sink or swim?”

“It feels like I’m sinking.” I felt my voice break, but I did not cry.

Dreux frowned. “It’s not hard to sink when you don’t even swim.” His dark eyes met mine. “Keep swimming, no matter what bullshit comes your way. Don’t let the waves take you.”

It felt like I was drowning, like the lack of control I had over my own life was taking me under.

My mom was gone.

Scott was a stranger to me.

And my own friends had left me.

My one night of fun in Meadow Grove got me grounded, and I couldn’t hack it.

Dreux seemed so confident, and then I remembered his words from Friday night before I’d left for the bowling alley.

He reached out and tapped my knee, trying to appear cheerful. “I’m not going to let you drown out here.”

“Give me…some type of literary quote to let me know it’ll all be okay,” I asked of him.

Dreux took me in, his face awash in that serious expression he seemed to always have with me. “Steinbeck, ‘To be alive at all is to have scars.’ Live and learn, Saylor, don’t let anyone or any experience break you.”

His words took me back to the moment I was on the mechanical bull, where I’d beaten the odds and stayed afloat.

I could do this.

I’d lived through the crash in LA, and I’d managed to beat the bull.

Whatever came at me next, I was almost positive that I could beat it too. Scott, Angela, anything.

“Thank you,” I breathed out.

Dreux offered a half smile as he rose to his full height and extended his hand to help me up. “School?”

“Yeah, let’s get that over with,” I said.

Dreux chuckled. “Sounds like a plan.”

Feeling slightly better, I nudged Dreux as we walked side by side back to his Bronco. “Does this mean you’re going to change the station now?”

Dreux snorted. “Nope. We’re not about to listen to that country yeehaw shit. Nobody wants to listen to a guy whine about his tractor and sister.”

I narrowed my eyes. “First of all, you uncultured swine, fuck you and your outdated insult. Second, I am a rock music connoisseur.”

We made it to the Bronco, and over the hood of the car, Dreux’s eyes met mine and he smiled at me.