Come Find Me(64)

Nolan nods and raises the window as the cop walks back to his car. We sit in silence, both of us breathing heavily, until the red and blue lights turn off. Then Nolan clears his throat and turns the car around, looping us back onto the main road, where we pull into the parking lot of the gas station, which has a twenty-four-hour convenience store attached.

The whole time, it’s painfully silent. He doesn’t look my way or try to make a joke to lighten the mood. Nothing.

Not even a Thanks for the quick thinking, Kennedy.

I finally look over at him, and he looks decidedly uncomfortable. I thought he felt the same as I did—like Joe had noticed, too. But then I think, Maybe he’s just a great pretender. Maybe I always only see what I want to see: in Nolan, in Elliot, in myself.

“I need a soda,” he says, his voice scratchy, as he exits the car.

“I’ll get it,” I say. I slam the door, and he jumps, frowning at me. “It didn’t have to be that hard, Nolan.” I take a step back, toward the store. “But thank you for your sacrifice, either way.”

And then I step out from the overhang of the station, thankful for the rain.





I watch her walk through the rain under the glow of the gas station lights until she disappears into the brightly lit store. I count the cash in my pocket, taken from the emergency envelope in our kitchen drawer. I hope it’s enough to get us all the way back. I hope I don’t have to ask her to pay for this, too.

This…wouldn’t be the best time to ask her for a favor.

She looked so angry, but I don’t know how to tell her these things. I’m not good at saying what I’m thinking. The times when I’ve been fully honest, laying everything out there, have been twisted around on me instead. The police, eyeing me with suspicion. My parents, even, disbelieving.

So I don’t know how to tell her that instead of dreaming of my brother, his image flickering in the corner, I now dream of her hair, the sound of her laugh.

That when she talks I am both listening to the words and watching her mouth, imagining kissing her. The rain comes down heavier now, and it’s like there’s a wall growing between us, the more time that passes.

    Shit. I leave the pump and follow her across the lot, and within five seconds, I’m soaking wet. I push open the door to the store, the bell ringing overhead, with the sharp cold of the air conditioning on my skin, and the glare of fluorescent lights. “Kennedy, wait.”

I weave through the aisles to find her. She turns around, the cool air from the soda fridge trailing goose bumps over her wet skin. I don’t know how to say it, so I just do. Fast, before I can second-guess myself. “I think about you all the time, and not just because of all this.” I wave my hands around, and I hope she knows what I mean. “I wanted to, Kennedy. I’ve been wanting to. I didn’t want it to be a joke, the first time I kissed you. Or, like, a way out of jail.”

She regards me slowly, then pulls two sodas from the fridge, letting the door swing closed behind her. I realize then how close we are, and how she’s leaning against the glass, the clothes clinging to our skin, and exactly how little space there is between us.

“I also didn’t want it to be in a car,” I say, thinking of Abby, then try to shake her from my mind. “And I don’t want it to be in a convenience store, while I’m making a list.”

I get the ghost of a smile then. “You’ve given this a lot of thought, I see.”

“It was a long car ride down here.”

She laughs, and it sounds like music. She brushes by me, and I can feel the air move around her, imagining that moment in the car again. Replaying it, and imagining it was real. She pays and exits the store without looking back.

I purchase the gas from the guy behind the counter, and when I leave, she’s standing underneath the overhang, leaning against the car. Like she’s waiting for me.

    I keep walking until I’m definitely inside her personal space, one hand on the car behind her so her head tips up, just to look at me. “We’re sort of close to the car, though,” she says. “And a gas pump. And this lighting, I mean, it’s not ideal.”

“Ha ha.”

“And there’s a convenience store within sight. Also, there might be animals out there. Are you sure this is okay?”

“Kennedy…”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I’ve closed the distance already.



* * *



—

I’m not sure how to balance this moment with the bigger ones. This connection between us, with a message from somewhere beyond our world. This need right here, with the need for answers. This tiny truth, with the ones that might be waiting farther out, in the universe, on the other side of what we can understand.

I pull back first, because it’s night, because I convinced her to come here with me, under the guise of answers, and this is all I’ve given her. “Are you ready?” I say.

She shakes her head, kisses me one last time, lingering there. Then she opens the car door and slips inside. And I know she understands, too.



* * *



—

    The construction site across from the old Rollins factory is empty. We park the car in the lot, and I take the flashlight from the glove compartment.