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“Why?” The question comes out as a whispered whine and my damn heart aches for her. It actually hurts in my chest.
I stay quiet because I don’t have the answer.
“Your stuff is in the back.” I state again, not sure if she even heard me earlier.
With a huff and a wounded look, Miri reaches back and grabs the bag her mom brought up from their storage unit. It’s sitting on top of the larger duffle bag stuffed with her clothes. It’s one of those flimsy drawstring backpacks with a store logo on it. Miri opens it and squints like she’ll be able to see in the dark. I click on the overhead light when I realize she’s not going to do it herself.
The light in the car feels too glaring, too bright after being hidden in the darkness for so long. I catch a glimpse of Miri’s face and pain rockets through me. My chest feels tight as if I can feel her heartache. There’s a magical tether crackling between us that I’ve never experienced before, even between my best friends who are some of the only other people I know who have these same powers living in them.
My hand lifts off the steering wheel, and I almost stretch it out to touch her, to offer comfort, but I snap it back down to the leather grip. What am I doing? Miri doesn’t know me. She doesn’t want me to ease her fears, as if I even could. Still, I can’t stop feeling like I need to protect her. Isn’t that what I’m doing? Helping to hide her away from whatever monster is hunting her? That’s all I can offer.
Miri’s head is bowed as she pulls items out of the bag, biting down on her lip so hard she draws blood. My eyes dart between her and the road taking in the stack of cash, photographs, some of her jewelry and a letter. There’s a hitch in her breath when she reaches up to turn off the light, some of the fight leaving her until she’s sagging against the window.
“She’s not going to be okay, is she?” There’s no sign of tears in her voice but the movement of her hand hastily wiping them away tells me they’re there.
Fuck. I give in to the need and reach out, wrapping my hand around her much smaller one. I don’t say anything because I don’t have any words that will help. I don’t know for sure what will happen to her mom, but I’m not optimistic about shit like this. My own past has taught me that life likes to take away all the good stuff, so don’t get too attached. Kind of like I’m doing right now with Miri. I shouldn’t. Another day and I’ll never see her again. That thought sends a stab of fury through me and I have a hard time shaking off the emotion.
The hours drift by as we drive. I lose track of how many after the cycle of stopping for gas, food, and bathrooms became a monotonous blur. Neither of us say much and Miri drifts in and out of sleep. The car becomes this bubble, where there’s us and then outside is the rest of the world. In here, things are quiet, calm. I have a hard time letting go of Miri’s hand for any extended period of time, but I know I’ll be gone before long.
We pull up in front of a small but well-tended two-story house on the outskirts of a little town in Mississippi. I’m beyond tired, but I found a spell before I left home to help keep me awake. I’m not very good at magic but it’s been enough to keep me alert for the long drive. Each blink grates like sandpaper over my eyeballs, and my teeth desperately need a brush. A quick check in the rearview mirror shows me bloodshot eyes and a haggard look that’s emphasized by the scruff on my jaw. I look like shit.
“This is Dani’s house.” I hesitate for a second before getting out of the car. My ass, legs, back, hell, my entire body is begging me to stretch and move around but Miri’s glazed eyes and the apprehension buzzing off her in waves holds me tight for another moment. “You’ll be okay.”
Miri makes a soft sound of protest when I untangle our fingers. I get out of the car with a long groan and stretch before making my way around to Miri’s side and opening her door.
“You’re here!” My aunt Dani comes bounding out the front door and beelines for us. Before I can respond, she has me wrapped up in a hug so tight I can’t even gasp out a hello. She’s her late thirties and reminds me so much of my mom it almost hurts to look at her.
“Davis, my God, did you guys drive non-stop? You look like death!” Dani’s voice carries a slight accent. There are hints of the lyrical drawl of a southerner, but she hasn’t lived here her entire life. Just long enough to adopt some of the musicality of the local language. She squeezes my arms before she lets me go and turns to Miri who’s exiting the car.
“I’m Dani.” She smiles at Miri, looking both pleased to see her but also sad. Dani only hesitates a second before she gathers Miri up in a bone-crushing hug with her deceptively strong arms.
“Hey, kiddo. Let’s get you guys inside.”
Miri nods and head to the backseat to get her stuff, but I block her, gathering up her bags while she watches. Each step toward the front porch feels heavier than the next because I know I’m that much closer to walking away from Miri forever. I don’t know why that hurts so much. I barely know her; we’ve hardly spoken the entire trip. Something deep in the recesses of my body keeps telling me that I shouldn’t leave her, but that’s not possible.
I stop as soon as we reach the porch, turning so abruptly that Miri walks right into my chest. My hand darts out to grasp her elbow and steady her. Electricity fires over my skin, and a small gasp of surprise pushes past her lips. A low, quick hum escapes the back of my throat and I let my hand linger, just a moment longer before I release her.
Dani’s already inside and I can hear her calling for us, but neither one of us moves. Our gazes lock as though we’re both hypnotized. Something shifts in my chest and I’m off balance. The world stops turning, and it’s just the two of us in this odd cosmic connection. I’ve forgotten how to breathe but it really doesn’t matter because time doesn’t exist, and I don’t need oxygen to survive in this strange place we’ve landed.
As if in slow motion, my hand raises up, fingertips brushing over her cheek and down her jaw before dropping away. Miri’s breath catches in her throat and my heart bashes against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape my chest and latch onto Miri’s. I don’t understand how something can feel this powerful with a girl I barely know.
“Dani’s a good person. She’ll be able to help you.”
“Help me with what?”
“I…I need to go.” For a second, one long, drawn out second, I consider pulling her into my arms, pressing my lips to hers, but that would only be a mistake. I break the intense eye contact and step around her, walking toward the car.
“Where are you going?” Miri’s voice is strangled, tears choking up the words.
“I don’t belong here.” I don’t stop as I respond, opening up the door to the driver’s side. The door creaks open behind Miri, and Dani joins her on the porch.
“Davis, you can’t really be heading back already. At least let me feed you.”
In response, I lift a hand, suddenly desperate to get away. To shove all these feelings back down into the cold wasteland of my soul where they belong. I wave her off and mumble, “I’m good.”
I don’t look back at Miri as I get in the car and drive away. I can’t. If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave.
