She Dims the Stars(29)

“It could be any number of things or it could be nothing at all. These things aren’t by the book. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks—they happen for a lot of reasons, and they happen in a lot of ways. But if you guys are going to be traveling with her for the next week or so, you’re going to have to know how to handle it if she has another one,” September outlines for them.

“That’s what I was trying to look up when she saw my laptop. That’s why she freaked out.” Elliot’s explanation is making my heart race again.

“You should come with us. Just in case.” Cline is asking September to stay for his own reasoning but using me as justification. I should be pissed, but I’m not. I like her. And I like him when he’s with her.

“I’ll think about it. You only have a couple more stops before you go back to Tennessee, right? If that’s the case, I can put off going back home for a little while longer.”

The chatter begins to die down, and I hear them say goodnight. The zipper opens, and Elliot steps back inside as quietly as he possibly can. He slips back into the makeshift bed with me and pulls my back to his chest, securing me to him with his arm over my stomach.

I listen to him sleep for the next six hours until the sun comes up and I have an excuse to get up and go take a shower. My reflection mocks me with puffy eyes and tangled hair. This nagging voice in my head that sounds irritatingly a lot like Miranda expresses to me me that I’m not good enough anyway, and I should just let Elliot go. I’m tainted and wrong and broken, and he can’t fix me. This trip is a waste. I’m hopeless.

And for the first time in a very long time, I nod in the mirror and think that maybe I am lost cause. Maybe I finally agree.

I just won’t let any of them know yet.



I’ve had my shower, taken my pills, and had a cup of coffee. All of those earlier thoughts are scattered, and I am focused on cooking our last breakfast at the campsite. Bacon and eggs on Elliot’s dad’s old skillet, plus biscuits from a bag. I’m not a gourmet cook, but I can work with what I’ve got.

I’m slicing some apples when Cline emerges from September’s tent.

“Whoa, you want some help with that?” He asks, hands raised and eyebrows drawn in concern.

I frown. “Are you afraid of me having a knife? Really, Cline? It was a panic attack. I should shank you just for being a dickhead.”

He nods and shrugs a shoulder. “So, you’re okay, then. Good to see you’re back to normal, Byrdie.”

I don’t even flinch at his use of my old nickname. I just hand him a cup of coffee and point to the bacon. “Save some for Elliot. That man loves his bacon.”

“Since when is Elliot a man?” Cline asks as he shoves a piece of pork in his mouth.

“Since he made me come in under a minute.”

“Damnit, Audrey, I’m trying to eat!” Cline slaps the picnic table and shoots me a disgusted look.

“What’s going on?” Elliot steps out of the tent, his dark hair standing up in all directions, his eyes still half closed with sleep.

“I was telling Cline about your super powers, and he’s all jealous and stuff.”

“Shut up, woman!” Cline makes a move like he’s going to get up.

“Able to hit a g-spot in three-point-five seconds!” I yell, just to piss him off. I’m successful, and he takes his plate of bacon, stomping off back into the other tent. I smile at Elliot and offer him a plate. “Hungry?”

He takes it and sits down across from me, eyeing me warily. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I feel great. Sorry about yesterday. I think it was just a lot of excitement and emotions. Everything should be okay from now on. I promise.” Lying to people about being fine has become such second nature that I don’t even know I’m doing it most of the time. I do right now, though. Elliot doesn’t deserve to be lied to. I just can’t shake the voices in my head from earlier and the thoughts they planted there, even if they’re quieter now than before.

“If it was my fault …”

“No. None of it was. You’re great. You’ve been great and you’re amazing. We’re going to Alabama next. Then Mississippi. Then back to Tennessee. After that, you’ve got the rest of your summer to do whatever with. And hopefully you’ll have everything you need to make a kick ass game and become a billionaire. I’ll get a magazine with your face on it and tell my friends you had your hand down my pants once. It’ll be my claim to fame.”

“Audrey …” His lips are pulled thin.

“What?” I laugh and stand up again, stepping away from the table. “Besides some merchandise with my cookie shitting unicorn—”

“Stop.” He gets up, too, and comes around the table to stand toe to toe with me. With a gentle tug, he pulls me with him back inside the tent. It’s starting to feel like home, and that’s exactly why we need to take it down immediately and get back in the car to our next destination. “When this trip is over, I don’t plan on just walking away from this. Whatever this is.”

“This?” I ask. “We made out. It got weird. We slept in a sleeping bag together a few times. We can go back to being friends and stuff.”

“I don’t want to, though.” His hands are on my hips, and I can’t even look him in the eye.