Page 455 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

leaving a swollen, purple tongue of twilight.

Guitar still in my lap. Thank God.

“Sorry to wake you, but we’re closed.

“You can come back tomorrow.

“We’ll be open normal hours.”

// 4:36 PM //

My boots sink into the soft white flesh of Woodlawn, the cold burning deep in my lungs, as I walk back to where my car is waiting.

And when I look up,

so is Andrew.

He’s leaning against the passenger side of my car, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. Ink-black hair, black jeans, in the middle of a dead winter landscape, he’s a slice of midnight.

My stride stutters,

my feet moving heavy.

He turns his head when I get close, his breath leaving jagged and pale between us as he watches me through the falling flakes.

With a jolt, my heart’s beating faster.

The man who spent all night shoveling us a grave, and now he’s standing here, catching rain’s white ash on his shoulders, in his hair.

Then—

ten feet out⁠—

my eyes narrow to the shoe box

on the roof of my car.

He opened his present.

A dangerous warmth kicks in my chest, my heart dragging my hope out of the dark.

I do a quick sweep of the grounds.

His car's not here.

“How… did you get here?”

“Uber,” he says, then clears his throat.

“Had an Uber drop me off.”

My brow lifts. “How did you know this is where I’d be?”

He looks off. “You said you’d be with your parents today. Found out where Corey was buried.”

I nod, my eyes flicking between him and the shoe box. “How long have you been waiting?”

He shrugs. “About an hour.” He points his chin in Mom and Dad's direction. “Didn’t wanna take away from your time.”