Monday mornings around our place are usually fairly boring. Not a lot goes on, and you’d be surprised to know the house is somewhat empty.
It’s. . . I don’t know, around ten in the morning? I’m sitting in the hot tub drinking a beer and contemplating crashing at Nells’s place for the rest of the week. At least maybe then my mind might stop.
Leaning my head back against the stucco ledge, I stare up at the bright blue sky and the haze of the distant wildfires. It’s times like this—when I can’t get out of my own head—when I feel like the world is disappearing in front of me. Or maybe it’s me who’s fading away. There’s an empty burning in my lungs, and my heart hits my chest so hard I think it’ll break my ribs and rip apart my skin. And I’m not even high.
And there’s a void. A black hole in my head, deep inside my soul, slowly swallowing the rest of me. That’s what keeps me from sleeping and has me wondering what I’m living for anyway.
Maybe for me. Maybe for others. Does it really matter?
And when I can’t find my answers in the hazy smoke-filled sky, the anxiety turns into panic and I usually turn to substance. But the thing is, I don’t want to be high all the time, just to get through the day.
Do you notice the way my body is tense? The way my mind—no matter how hard I try—never strays far from her a girl with purple hair and the one at her feet with freckles dusted on her cheeks?
It’s not without effort. I try to not think about them, but nothing seems to work. Not drugs, not alcohol, and certainly not pussy. In fact, I tried. Remember the chick from After Dark? The one who asked to come back to my trailer?
Took her back there and then had her leave, because no matter what I did, I couldn’t focus on anything but Amberly and that kiss. And then the fact that Cody didn’t seem to get the fucking message I delivered.
In fact—to my surprise—Cody didn’t heed my warning. He did more than give her popcorn. He asked her out on a goddamn date. A date I should have been taking her on.
Would you be surprised to learn I’ve never been on a date?
Didn’t think so.
She can’t date anyone but me. She just. . . can’t.
A shadow blocks the sun. A tall, slender figure hovers over me and she doesn’t look pleased. In fact, she looks pissed, doesn’t she? Much like a lot of people in our inner circle, Willa has been around me most of my life. Lucky her, right? I’m not sure she feels that way about me.
I haven’t really mentioned her yet, so you might be wondering who the fuck this chick is and where has she been? Well, for one, she’s raising a kid. Oh, and let’s be clear here. It’s not mine, and I can say that with absolute certainty. Berlin is Ricky’s bastard child.
Being our PR rep, much of Willa’s days are spent with Shade’s schedule. His shit alone is enough to keep her out of sight for weeks at a time.
Unfortunately—and not that I don’t like her—I’m forced to deal with her from time to time when I’ve gotten myself into trouble.
Like now, when she’s wanting to know why I’ve gotten myself in trouble again with Doug Johnson.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing,” I reply instantly, refusing to look at her.
She kicks my arm with her foot. “Not buying it.”
I move, shift, and lean my chin on the edge of the pool deck, water dripping from my chin. Looking up at her from over the top of my shades, I wink. “Simple misunderstanding.”
“Not buying it.” She slides down to my level, squatting, and then fists her hands in my hair forcing me to look at her. “What are you doing? Are you high?”
Masking my emotions is what I do best. Sliding my hands around her backside, I pick her up and drop her in the hot tub with me.
Too much? I don’t know. Check out the squeal she lets out, holding her cell phone high above her head, sputtering out curses and empty promises to kill me. She’ll never kill me. Willa loves me. Well, maybe not at this exact moment, but still, her love is unconditional.
Looking like a drowned cat, mascara smearing down her cheeks, she pushes her hair from her face. “I’m going to kill you!”
I laugh, pushing away from her to the other side of the hot tub near the steps. “Ah, you love me.”
Dripping with water, Willa stomps away from me and inside the house with Berlin. I’m only alone for another few minutes when Shade and Roan come outside, both shirtless, both drinking a beer. Like I said, Mondays are our days to relax.
“Fuck, man, this smoke’s intense now.” Shade gets in the hot tub while Roan looks on his cell phone. The air smells and tastes like a bonfire, the horizon glowing orange beneath a murky smoke-filled sky.
Half of southern California is on fire and the Santa Ana winds are igniting most of it. So far we’ve been lucky enough to escape evacuation.
“No riding on the track,” Ricky yells out the window, reminding us they’ve put a ban on nearly everything that could possibly create a spark around here. Even last night at the show in Santa Monica, water trucks line the setup, ready to put out any accidental spark.
Through the dry hills around us, fire burns like my temper. Leaping flames angry at the living world. I lay my head back against the stucco again, staring up at the sky, telling myself to leave her alone, when he asks, “What’s going on with you and Amberly?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, bringing my beer to my lips. He knows I hate talking about this shit, but still, he asks. I think Scarlet and her inability to stay out of people’s lives is beginning to wear off on him.
“I heard she’s going on a date with Cody.”
“So? I don’t give a fuck.”
But I do. Always. Even the mention of his name sends my heart racing and a knot in my throat. I know I should leave it alone, I know this, but that’s when it hits me that I can’t let her date him. I can’t let anyone date her but me, even if I can’t give her what she needs, doesn’t mean someone else should.
Not wanting them to ask any more questions, I go inside the house, up to my room but I still can’t shake the thoughts of her out with someone else. I’m not saying it’s the right thing to do, but I call Parker after I’m dressed and demand he tell me where they’ve gone.
He doesn’t. At first.
I feel somewhat like Christian Bale in Batman when I demand, in a deep growling voice, “Tell me where they are!”
Parker laughs. “Jesus, dude. Fine. They’re at North Italia.”
I hang up.
Now, do you see me there on my dirt bike in the driveway ready to head into Santa Monica? I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking something along the lines of Jesus dude, let it go. She deserves better than you, ya crazy fuck.
I know this, but do you think I care?