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Without permission, my vision goes watery and I swipe at my nose, sniffing loudly.
I hate this shit.
I don’t know how long I sit there. Long enough for Winnie to find me after returning from her trail ride. She doesn’t say anything, just sits beside me. Eventually, I pass her the tickets. I can tell by the way her breath catches she’s found his name, but still, she doesn’t ask anything of me. Which is good because I’m a dried-out husk, so tired of crying and angry that, once again, I’m crying. I don’t want to doanyof this anymore. I burned the list; I applied to college. I’m healing. Why can’t I stop this fucking sadness from sinking me over and over and over again?
How long is someone supposed to feel this way? How can a person possibly live like this, being fine one minute and thenext feeling as if happiness is impossible? Like I’m grasping at a concept I’ll never understand again.
Winnie leans her head onto my shoulder, and the golden warmth of her body sinks past my defenses. I still don’t have any words. I might never, at this point. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to need them.
Four days later, I’m getting out of the shower when there’s a ringing at the front door. Kerry’s around, so I let her answer it while I finish getting dressed, but just as I’m pulling down my T-shirt, she’s yelling my name from the bottom of the stairs. Thinking it’s likely Pax, I don’t hurry. This is becoming a theme with him since the tickets came, and he’s been by every single afternoon to sweep me away for tacos or burgers or whatever. I don’t know where he learned this maternal need to press food into my hands and feed me all the time, but I’m gonna have to convince him to start liking bookstores or the batting cages or something, because I can’t keep eating like this.
“Pax, it’s barely ten, how can you even be hungr—” I stutter to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. “Winnie! Hey! Sorry! What are you—” And then the rest of her appearance sinks in. You have to understand. Winnie has one style, and it’s a good one. It suits her and is cute as hell and really,reallyworks on a ranch kid like me. Boot-cut jeans faded to perfection, fitted button-downs to look professional for the guests, dusty work boots, and a baseball hat to keep the sun out of her eyes.
Like I said: classic, sexy, ready to kick ass, and shovel manure.
Aside from Maria’s party, that’s been the uniform. Which is why I’m gaping like a fucking trout this morning: she’s wearingcutoffsand a fitted T-shirt with the wordsI LOVE ROCK ’N’ ROLLprinted in slasher font.
“Too much?” she grimaces. “I found it at Target on clearance.”
“Um, no? But—”My girlfriend is wearing cutoffs.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” she asks me, taking in my T-shirt with the sleeves carved out and worn barn jeans.
“Y-yeah?”
She exchanges a friendly smirk with Kerry, who walks out of the room, laughing under her breath. “Well, okay, then. Is your bag packed?”
I blink at her, trying to comprehend what’s happening. Is it our one-month anniversary already? Did I forget something?
“Let’s pretend I’m an idiot and not because I can’t stop staring at your legs,” I drawl out nice and slow. “What are you talking about? Did I forget something?”
“Headbangers Ball, Case. Hello? It’s starting in like”—she looks at her watch—“ten hours, and the drive is eight hours, not including stops, so we need to get a move on.”
“We’re going to Austin?”
“Yes.”
“You’re taking me to Austin? Right now?”
“Well, technically,you’retakingme, because I seriously doubt my car would make it out of the panhandle. But yes. I already checked with your dad and Kerry and even Pax. The point is: we’re going. If you want.”
“I’m—I’m not—but I haven’t—” I stutter, slipping my hand into my hair and trying to make words make sense.
Kerry is there, handing me my duffel with a beaming smile. “Here’re your things. I took the liberty of packing you an overnight bag. Don’t you dare try to drive home tonight.”
“Don’t worry. I made reservations at a hotel outside Austin,” Winnie says.
Kerry nods her approval. “I packed some snacks. I knowyou’ll fill up on junk food at the first Valero on your way, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have something with a little more substance.”
“We’re going to Walker’s show,” I say, finally managing to coordinate the words coming out of my mouth with the ones in my brain.
Winnie takes a step closer and lowers her voice. “Are ya cool with that? I’m sorry to throw this all at you, but really, Walker did all the planning a year ago. I just went to Brody—”
“What? You did?”
Her smile is shy. “Yeah, who went to his parents because I initially wanted to pay them for the tickets. They flat-out refused the money. And before you ask, they’re also paying for the hotel room. Insisted on it. They got all emotional and told me to tell you this is what Walker would have wanted—for you to still go. So I went to my dad and told him I would be leaving town, and he needed to be there for Garrett. This couldn’t be like the last time when he flaked. And then I programmed Camilla into Jesse’s speed dial, because let’s face it, I don’t trust my dad not to fuck this up, but Iamtrying to trust others. Anyway, he promised, so we’ll see. But, Case…” She takes a deep breath, placing her hands on my shoulders.
“It’s completely up to you. We don’thaveto do this. I just thought, maybe you secretly wanted to, and it could be a good way to, like, I don’t know, honor your best friend. For that reason, I want to do it, too. Because he was my friend, and I never got to tell him that.” Her voice gets a little wobbly, and she takes a second to clear her throat. “What do you think? Want to go on a road trip and eat lots of gas station sugar and listen to hours and hours of obnoxious arena rock?”
