Something ignited in my chest, bright and violent, like I was standing at the edge of a cliff and had already decided to jump. I heard the cashier shouting behind me. I heard Cherry’s footsteps pounding after mine. I didn’t look back. I ran like my feet were on fire. I tore open my car door and threw the beer into the backseat without care, my hands shaking as adrenaline flooded my veins.
“Come on!” I yelled.
Cherry sprinted toward me, panic and disbelief all over her face. I laughed harder when I saw the man chasing after her. Too late. The second Cherry’s ass hit the passenger seat and the door slammed shut, I floored it. The tires screeched as we took off.I couldn’t stop laughing. It burst out of me uncontrollably, loud and breathless, like my body didn’t know how else to release whatever had just been unleashed. I felt electric. On fire. Alive in a way I hadn’t been in years. We drove for miles before I finally looked over at Cherry. She was completely silent. Stunned again. Twice in one night. That had to be a record.
“What. The. Fuck?” she said finally, punctuating every word. “Who the hell are you?” I didn’t answer right away. I just kept glancing between the road and her face. Then she laughed. It was the kind of laugh that only comes when reality stops making sense and there’s nothing else to do but accept it. “You are fucking crazy tonight,” she sighed, shaking her head, but she was smiling. “Okay, Miss Rebel. You’ve got your cigarettes. You’ve got your beer. What’s the plan now? God, I feel like we’re in freshman year again.”
“That was a good year,” I said softly. The memories flashed through me before I could stop them. Before everything happened. Before Holden. Before me.
“Yeah,” Cherry agreed, but I could feel her hesitation creeping back in. She opened her mouth to say something else.
I cut her off. “Can we just enjoy it, Cherry? Please?” The desperation slipped into my voice before I could catch it. I wondered if she heard it too. She was quiet for a moment, and the silence stretched long enough that my chest tightened. Then she nodded.
“Okay, Blair,” she said gently. “If that’s what you want, we’ll enjoy it.”
“Great,” I smiled, hoping she meant it.
And she did. We drove through the city like nothing mattered. The music was loud. We sang. We laughed. We let the nightcarry us wherever it wanted. Eventually, familiar streets faded into roads I didn’t recognize. I didn’t care. I turned when I felt like turning, drove when I felt like driving. My mind didn’t know where we were going—and for once, it didn’t need to. Like my body, it was finally free from plans. For these few minutes, it felt like I had accepted the truth. There were no directions in life. No maps. No GPS. Just turns. Highways. Forks in the road. And in the end, it didn’t really matter which way you went.
“Here.” Cherry braced herself again as I abruptly pulled the car over. She scanned the darkness through every window, clearly trying to understand what possessed me to stop here of all places.
“Here?” she repeated, doubt thick in her voice. And honestly, who could blame her? I looked around too. There wasn’t much to see. Just a stretch of black pavement flanked by damp grass and shadowed trees, the road swallowed by emptiness in both directions.
“Yeah. Here,” I smiled, already reaching for the pack of beer as I pushed the door open.
“Why here, Blair?” Cherry called after me.
“Bring the cigarettes,” I said, glancing back just long enough. “And the lighter.” Then I turned away and walked into the dark.
I was still wearing my white work shoes, and even though I could barely see my feet, I knew the grass would stain them green. The ground was damp beneath my steps. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t hesitate. I just walked. I heard Cherry’s hurried footsteps behind me. Of course she followed. Cherry would do almost anything to avoid being alone in a dark, empty car.
“Blair!” she called when she finally caught up, looping her arm through mine. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” I told her honestly.
She let out a slow breath. “Okay. So we could literally be walking to our deaths right now and have no idea.”
“Yeah,” I said lightly. “I guess so.”
She shook her head. “If I didn’t love you so damn much…” I didn’t respond. My eyes were adjusting now. The moon was full overhead, bright and unapologetic, like it was the only thing willing to illuminate the world for us.
We were standing in a field. But unlike the one Henry had once shown me, this one was painfully unremarkable. No hill. No rise. No view. Just flat land stretching into nothing. I recognized the metaphor immediately. I ignored it. My steps slowed as I took one last look around. A part of me wanted to keep walking, like maybe, just maybe, if we went far enough, something meaningful would appear. Something worth the detour. Something I could point to and say,See? I told you.Instead, I stopped. Accepting that maybe… it wasn’t.
“Come on,” I said, dropping to the ground and tugging the beer down with me. “Sit.”
Cherry looked down at me like she was reassessing her life choices. Then she sighed, peeled off her sweater, laid it on the grass, and sat beside me. I focused on the beer, tearing the plastic rings apart and freeing the cans. I handed one to her. She took it without comment. I cracked mine open and drank like I’d crossed a desert, ignoring the bitterness as I swallowed.
“So,” Cherry said after a moment, sipping hers carefully. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” I replied, pulling the half-empty can away. “I forgot how bad beer tastes.”
She laughed softly. “Yeah, but you’re chugging it like it doesn’t.”
I paused, then shrugged, conceding the point. When the can ran dry, I tossed it aside and opened another. Cherry sighed, but she didn’t stop me. She would have, if she thought it would help. Instead, she let the silence stretch between us, sipping every so often while I drank steadily. I didn’t wonder what she was thinking. I didn’t want to. Eventually, the alcohol hit me harder than it should have. Two days of barely eating will do that. I wasn’t drunk—but I was loose. Looser than I’d been in days. Like my mind had finally unclenched.
“Let me see those cigarettes,” I muttered. I didn’t wait for her answer. I took them from where they lay, peeling off the plastic and pulling one free. I held it up, examining it in the moonlight. It looked harmless. We both knew better.
I held the lighter up, flicking the metal wheel until it finally caught, sparks leaping into the air before the flame steadied. I brought it to the end of the cigarette and watched as the fire devoured the paper, curling it inward. I lifted it to my mouth and inhaled the way I’d seen other people do it a hundred times. I coughed instantly. The smoke scraped down my throat, coating it in something bitter and chemical, something deeply unappealing. I waited for something to happen as it filled my lungs. A rush. A calm. Anything. Nothing came. I felt my face fall as I pulled the cigarette away from my mouth. Disappointed. Almost offended. I tossed it to the ground in front of me and crushed it under my shoe, grinding the ember out until there was nothing left but a smear of ash. Cherry didn’t say a word.
