The road was hard to see. The snowfall kicked up exponentially, and my eyes were flooded with unshed tears, too hot to let go. I was losing my fire. Losing it all. I wanted to hold onto the warmth of my tears just so I could remember what fire felt like.
Frigid, arctic air was cradling my bones, rising into my chest, and threatening to take over my heart. All the air was being squeezed out of me by invisible forces. I was ice, slowly being prepped to become pure. For a moment, I wondered if I was turning into the glaciers Crew told me about.
We were about five minutes away from Willow’s house, where Crew had hopefully ended up. The heat was on full blast, useless against the numb chill of my skin. Nothing was playing on the radio. Nothing could fill the empty void of worry and concern both of us felt.
“I never knew it could be like that.” Willow wasn’t facing me. She wasn’t even facing the windshield. She was looking at her phone, refreshing her text messages every few seconds. “Aren’t they cold? Why don’t they just take a break from the storm? I can’t wrap my head around it, Price. And even worse, I can’t help but wonder if that was Crew at some point. Before we moved here, he’d disappear for whole nights and entire days, only to turn back up with cuts and bruises all over his face and a wad of cash.”
I sat with that for a moment, trying to stop myself from imagining Crew as a scrawny teen, punishing himself for something he wouldn’t tell me about. “Whether it’s for a place to stay for a night, or because whoever controls them demands it, none of them have a choice, Willow.”
“But Crew does. I’ve been asking him the same question since we were sixteen—why? Why ruin your mind and your body for something so dangerous and demeaning when you have the choice not to? I—I’ve tried so hard for him. His mom and I both did, Price. You—fuck, you gotta believe me.”
Her voice was breaking. I heard the desperation and frustration in her voice, and there was nothing I could do to help her.
I shook my head just as I began to pull into her driveway. The porchlight was on, illuminating the mounds of snow that now covered it. “You think Crew has a choice, but he doesn’t. Not really.”
She turned to me; her face caught in the yellowish lighting. Her eyes were full of sadness, a deep, vast hole I knew had been dug years ago. “I think I know that. I mean, somewhere deep down, I do. He’s even said it without outright saying it. But he won’t tell me why his choice was taken from him. That’s what I don’t understand.” I watched as she opened her phone again, swiping out and back into her messages to see if she had any new ones. She didn’t. “We grew up together. He knows everything about me, and I’ve tried so hard to be who he needs me to be.”
“You’re an amazing friend. He loves you with his entire being. I think he’s trying to protect you, or maybe himself. I don’t know.”
“He likes you, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No.” She shook her head, the red in it gleaming under the light. “He’s gonna kill me for saying anything, but he called you his catalyst. He knows you can help him, even if he won’t admit it. Crew wants you, Price. He just doesn’t know how tolethimself want you.”
I stared at Willow for much longer than would’ve been appropriate, stuck in a loop that was playing in my mind. The recent change in Crew’s behavior, the way he’d started to give himself to me more. He started to open up, to allow me into his life.
It started to form a sort of hope in the back of my mind. Hope that I wasn’t the only one feeling the way I was with him. I knew I wanted Crew for longer than our stupid time limit, and now, I could begin to hope that he wanted that too.
Tearing my gaze away from Willow, I stared at their front door. I imagined Crew was there, waiting for me to come inside and kiss the shit out of him. I smiled at the thought. “Well, he’s my catalyst, too. He’s taught me what it felt like to enjoy life again. To enjoy people and real connections. If I have my way, I’m going to find him and never let him go.”
There was a pause. One that felt like forever, only to be a few seconds in reality. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
I jerked my head towards Willow, face flaming. “I?—”
“It’s okay. I think he feels the same.” Willow began to open the truckdoor, turning her attention away from me. “I’ll text you if he is or isn’t here. Go ahead and take the truck back to your place. We can pick up our cars after the snow settles a bit.”
All I could do was nod and hope that Crew was there. I watched as Willow carefully traversed her way over the slippery walkway. She slipped into the front door, the windows lighting up as she turned the lights on.
Little butterflies squirmed in my gut, forcing nausea to rise and fight for control over me. What the fuck were we supposed to do if he wasn’t there? I wasn’t ready to admit defeat, but there was no way we could keep on like we had been doing. We’d have to wait until tomorrow, and even then, we might be looking at going on foot. What if we were too late?
A revolted shiver rushed through me at that last thought. I didn’t want to imagine a world without Crew, especially not one where he was gone because we didn’t look hard enough. The police very likely wouldn’t take his situation seriously until after twenty-four hours, and even then, once they got word he was a sex worker, it might be even less. We were stuck with each other for now.
A text came through on my phone, and I hurried to open it.
Willow:
He’s not here. Be safe going home. I’m sorry.
I frowned, knowing that even though this was the most likely thing to happen, it still hurt. A frozen mist splashed along my spine, freezing me from the inside out. Crew still wasn’t answering his phone, his voicemail officially full from us calling to check on him.
The drive home was long and lonely. I found myself moving back to scratching, desperate to calm the constant itch and buzz that was driving me wild. When I was with Crew, the itching was usually tolerable if not gone altogether. It was like he was magic, convincing my brain that there was nothing in the world to be worried about.
Now that he was gone, it seemed like my brain was punishing me. It was brutal, reminding me of the days I would cook to keep my hands busy while Mom and Dad screamed at each other in the other room. I could hear every word. Every insult to my mother or me that my dadthrew. Some days, I’d have to put on latex gloves just to make myself stop.
Tonight was one of those nights. I still kept gloves at home just in case. I hadn’t needed them since I was much younger, but still. If I couldn’t have Crew, and I knew cooking wouldn’t help, I’d have to resort to them over drinking.
My apartment complex looked entirely too lonely. Management seemed to have thrown some salt down on the sidewalks and most parking spots, including the one in front of my stairwell. Leaving the truck, knowing I didn’t accomplish what I wanted to, was difficult. More than difficult; it was devastating. Soul-crushing.
