She inhales a jagged breath, a smile flickering on her pink lips. However, just when I think she’s going to answer, her eyes widen at a light that’s creating a halo around her face. I’m too blinded by her eyes, by the realization that maybe she—
“Bonnie. BONNIE!”
I quickly close my eyes, forcing the images out of my mind. I can’t think about Kelsey now. It’s been two years since I…
Since I took her life.
Something like guilt grabs my insides, and I shudder as I try to keep my shit together. I can’t break down. Not now. Not in front of my mom. She’s already so worried. One glimpse into what’s really going through my head and she might think I’m not ready to leave. That I can’t handle being on my own…
I’m fine.
She doesn’t need to know.
I need my water bottle.
Did I pack my water bottle?
It has to be in the front seat.
I clear my throat and force myself to smile, shrugging it off just like I always do.
“I promise I’m okay,” I tell her.
“Livi, leave it,” my dad says as he joins us. He pushes his bag up on his shoulder and claps my shoulder. “You ready, kid?”
“Are you?” I ask him. “We have an hour of grunge ahead of us. I hope you’re ready to step back into the 90s.”
He laughs. “Let me throw in a classic or two, and you have a deal.”
“Bonnie, wait.” Mom’s hand is on my wrist, stopping me from opening the truck door. “Bonnie, are you sure—”
I sigh and place my hands on her shoulders. “I’m an hour away. I’m not moving across the country. I am fine. I will call you tomorrow. I love you.”
Tears line her wide blue eyes—myeyes. She grabs my face and kisses my forehead, giving me a solemn look when she pulls back. “Okay. Okay. I trust you. I do. I really do.” She takes a step away from me and presses her hands to her hips like she knows she has to in order to let me go.
My dad leans over and kisses her temple. “I’ll call when I’m on the way back,” he tells her.
I’m already in the truck, shutting the door behind me when Mom launches at the window for a final goodbye. And by the time we finally get on the road, I’m curling my body into the leather seat, drink bottle between my legs, and tapping on my iPod to get the playlist started.
“You know your mother just wants to make sure you’re okay,” he says, switching hands on the wheel. “Your room will be there anytime you need it. We’ll be there.”
“Dad, I’m fine,” I tell him. I bring my lips to my straw and suck down a large sip of drink. The vodka burns the back of my throat. Still, I shake it off just as the drink shakes my creeping anxiety.
“Okay, are you ready for the best music ever played?”
The bar is loud with conversations and clanking drinks. My friends and roommate are huddled around a table by the backtaking shots and flirting with anything that moves. I’m barely listening—too focused on finding any members of Young Decay in the crowded room.
Mira, my roommate, slides a shot glass my way. “Hey, you planning on being here with the rest of us or are we keeping you from something?” she asks.
I shake my head to break out of the trance and give her a smile. “Cheers,” I say, tapping the shot glass against hers. “What are we talking about then?”
“Layla thinks that’s the drummer over there,” she says, jerking her chin to the far end of the bar.
I whip my head around so quickly that I almost knock Simone’s drink over. She says something, though I don’t hear it.
Holy shit.
It’s Rad.
