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The ground lurches as I follow, and I shake my head, the Colorado sun warming my leather jacket. It makes my skin damp and itchy. Wish I could take this shit off and say fuck it. To hell with everyone seeing my scars. Why should I fucking care? Nobody else does.

Nobody gives a shit about me.

Raised voices reach my ears, and I lift my gaze to watch Christian smoosh Taylor’s face between his hands.

“Yeah, Tay Bae, lighten up,” he laughs, and I snicker. Another Arya nickname. That one’s actually fucking funny.

God, I wish I was dead.

Reaching into Christian’s bag, I pull out some flower and pack a bowl, needing that extra buzz to send me higher. Shoot me into fucking space for all I care. I’d rather be up there than down here, alone.

As soon as I pull out my Zippo to light the pipe, it’s suddenly smacked out of my hands.

“What the fuck?!”

My pipe crashes to the ground, shattering at my feet, as Taylor pokes me in the chest.

“You’re near a fucking gas pump, dumbass,” he growls, curling his lips. “You really think lighting up right here is a smart move?”

“God, my bad.” Jesus, I sound like shit, even to my own ears.

Taylor just shakes his head, dark strands curling around his ears beneath his backwards hat. “What’s going on with you lately? I know Matty and Hannah leaving is gonna be hard on you, but come on, man—"

Before I know what I’m doing, I fucking snap. Planting a hand on his chest, I shove him into Salem’s jeep, fury and agony lancing through my blood.

“You don’t know fucking shit, Taylor. What, is your own life so miserable that you have to mess with everyone else’s?”

I’m fucking done. All he does is stick his nose in everyone else’s shit like a bad dog, and I’m over it.

“Pinche cabrón.” Christian steps forward, reaching for me, but Taylor throws out a hand to stop him.

The buzz I was riding earlier is gone, sober now from the adrenaline spike, and I glare at Tay for fucking ruining it. For forcing me to go on this goddamn trip with the one person in the world that will never fucking love me back the way I love him.

“Xed, take your hands off of me,” he warns slowly, his fists balling at his sides like he wants to fight.

For a brief moment, I wish he would. I wish he’d put me out of my fucking misery.

“What’s going on?” Huck appears to my right, followed by Logan and Matty, whose proximity draws me out of this haze of anger.

And then all of it just… disappears. Gone in an instant, like smoke in the night.

Glancing down, I study my hand still pressed into Taylor’s bare chest, shame flooding my senses.

What the fuck am I doing? Why am I taking shit out on him, of all people?! He’s not the one who deserves it.

My eyes find Matty’s like they always do, and the concern etched on his features feels like a slap to the face.

You did this to me. You’re just like Pearl.

His gaze slides away, my silent words passing between us.

Guilty.

“You owe me a new pipe,” I mutter, forcing Tay out of the way when I pull open the back door, slamming it shut behind me.

I can feel Matty’s attention on my face through the car window, but I can’t stand the sight of him. Not anymore.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the seat, wishing I could take another drink, but it’s empty. It was supposed to last me all weekend, and now I’ll have to spend it sober.