One Night Only

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Time and memory are odd things. While the days after The Domino and before coming to the lake seemed to stretch on, with memories of the explosion haunting me whether awake or asleep, the days after my first kiss with Hunter pass by at a speed I want to slow down. Entire hours evaporate when we're together, even when we're just relaxing by the water or taking the pedal boat out on the lake.

Happiness does something to bend time. Two weeks go by in a blur, each day filled with laughter, fun, and new things to explore. Last week Mom and I went with Hunter, Paisley, and their parents to dig amethyst out of the ground from an open pit at the mine. Once back at the cottage, covered in dirt from head to toe, I jumped from the dock into the lake in my tank top and cutoffs and pulled Hunter in with me, giddy and giggling the entire time. Then there were yesterday's stolen moments of making out while Mom was gone on a quick trip to the convenience store at the highway truck stop.

The days here have almost made me forget what life was like before this summer. I fall asleep each night listening to loons call to each other in the distance and wake up each morning with birds chirping outside of my window. I hardly remember when kissing Hunter hello and goodbye wasn't a part of every day.

Dr. Delacruz picks up on my change in mood during a video therapy session the next day. It's the first one we've had since I arrived at the lake. I didn't want to keep the appointment since sleeping has become much easier these last couple of weeks and I haven't thought much about The Domino, but Mom insisted I talk to her.

Dr. Delacruz listens to me prattle on about how much better things are than the last time we spoke, and how this vacation is exactly what I needed. I expect her to be proud of my major step forward, but that's not how she responds.

"I'm a little concerned." She taps the eraser end of a pencil against her cheek and peers at me as best as she's able to on a computer screen.

"You're concerned that I'm happy?" I wonder if I look as bewildered as I sound.

"Not exactly. I'm glad you've found a routine that makes you happy, but I'm concerned you're hyper-focusing on your new relationship to avoid processing what happened. I want to make sure you're working through the grief and trauma and aren't subconsciously pretending it doesn't exist."

It's a punch in the gut, and her assessment seems unfair. Even if I am somehow blocking things out without knowing it, being well-rested and in good spirits should be encouraging signs, not alarming ones. Debating her concerns is probably a one-way ticket to extra sessions, though, so I give her my word that I'll reflect on this. Our conversation can't end soon enough today.

"How did things go?" Mom asks once I emerge from my bedroom.

"Fine for a therapy session, I guess." I put the laptop on the table in front of her. She can have it.

"Sawyer texted me about twenty minutes ago with some news for you. Why don't you read it?"

She picks up her phone and taps at it a couple of times, then hands it to me. Sawyer's message is open on the screen.

Hi Julia! How are you and Deni doing? I start the Canadian part of the tour this weekend, out in Vancouver. Can you tell Deni that we added a date at a music festival close to where you are? It's in Thunder Bay in a week and a half. I'm sure Deni won't want to come to the show for a bunch of reasons, but it would be great to see her and hang out while I'm there.

"They're coming here?" My voice is an octave higher than what's usual for me. If Sawyer and his band are coming here, then Bowie and his band are also coming here.

This is the last place I want to run into people who know me right now, Sawyer aside. There's too much at stake if my identity is outed to the wrong person. Plus, Sawyer will rake me over the coals for not telling Hunter about my music alter ego yet, especially if he finds out we're officially dating.