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"I can't… I don't think I can do it anymore," I say truthfully.
They all nod, knowing it's true before I even say the words.
My body is jittery, even if a part of me feels relief. I've been feeling this for a long time, and I didn't realize it. Not until I crashed my guitar on the stage.
"Go get some fucking help, dude." Lonnie slaps me on the shoulder.
I scowl at him. "Why am I the one that needs help? You guys all fucking snort blow, too. But I'm the only one that is an addict? We're all in the same fucking spot."
"Trust me, I'm definitely going to need a fucking therapist after this shit." Clyde runs his hands through his hair.
"Because, Rome, you deal with shit differently. We haven't been what you've been through. Whatever it is that you and Luna have, it's fucked you up. You've got a drug problem, but more than that, you're fucking broken, dude. You've been broken since we left Shallow Lake at eighteen years old."
I bite my lip, hating their accusing looks, but knowing they’re right. They know me more than anyone. They're the ones who've been around me the past three years. Hell, they've been around me since I was young. They know me.
But more than anything, they know Luna and me. They know how we are. What she means to me. What being without her has done to me.
They know how broken I am.
I nod, and they collectively sigh in relief.
"Well, it was a good run, boys," Lonnie says, looking at us sadly.
This is it. This is really it.
"Thanks, guys. For everything." I blink, suddenly overcome with emotion.
Life is funny. It changes in just a blink of an eye. I could have not crashed my guitar on the ground, and we would still be out there playing. But one second, just one moment, and everything changed.
My entire life changed.
Everything changed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LUNA
1998
Iwalk along the beach, the sand so much different from home. My skirt blows in the ocean breeze, my bikini top full of sand. I look into the distance, seeing wave upon wave. Nothing but blue into the distance.
Nothing but time.
I hear my name and turn around, seeing my friends wave to me from our picnic bench.
San Diego.
It’s where we’ve been for a year now.
Leaving Arizona was inevitable, mostly after that fateful night. It was traumatizing on all of us, mostly after walking back to the Winnebago with one less person. It was hard when we finally made it back, drinking water and watching our color return, knowing we left someone, empty, broken, dead, way up in the mountains.
My eyes water, and I wipe the tear from my lashes, flicking it off onto the sand.
It didn’t take long for us to leave; a few days of mourning and we couldn’t stand to be there another second. Between Shauna’s death and the shooting the night before, we were all itching for something new.
Our goal was to finally go to Maui, but once we landed in San Diego, this place just… stuck. There are so many people here. It’s not like Arizona, where you can go days without seeing someone. The beaches of San Diego are packed, people who are just like us. We sleep on the beach, we sleep under the stars, we sleep wherever we’re meant to.
And no one cares. Everyone is happy here.
