To The Moon and Back

𝟐𝟖 | 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

M O O N

the natural satellite of the earth, visible (chiefly at night) by reflected light from the sun.

T O  T H E
M O ON & B A C K

I'M DRIVING AND I don't know where I'm headed. That's how most of my drives begin; with no destination in mind. I'm speeding and swerving and constantly changing back and forth between gears as I navigate through the steep streets. I've been doing this for hours.

My hands grip the steering wheel, the skin protecting my knuckles turning pale as it tightens with each movement. 

Grease stains my fingertips from working relentlessly on cars at Raven's all day. It felt good to be back and distracting myself with something I actually enjoy. I didn't sleep last night, I headed into work at six AM and finished an hour ago, at five PM. Did a few simple tire changes, upgraded a few fixtures, did some panel-beating. Nothing extravagant but it was enough to fill the gaping hole inside of me—temporarily.

I took the letter that I wrote to Everly to the post office and sent it before I could forget about it and lose it amongst the mess in my apartment. Then I headed to my dealer just outside of the city. He gave me something nameless and I didn't ask questions. He told it would make me feel good and that was all I needed to know. I bought a few of this nameless substance. I'm yet to actually have it, though because I had to make a pit stop at Solar's and now, I'm fucking pissed off again.

I zone out for a while as traffic subsides and let my hands guide the wheel to wherever, hoping my muscle memory will take me somewhere useful. The rain pitter patters softly against my windows, my window-wipers squeaking with each movement, and even with those going, I can barely see.

I slide into a parking spot between a Harley and a car that looks like a fucking shit box next to mine. My car idles as I take in my surroundings, my engine purring loudly until I shift into park and switch the keys, silencing my car.

I exit my car, squinting as I shield my eyes, peering at the setting in front of me and the neon sign glows brightly above the long but thin building.

I walk toward the door, eyes trained on my wet sneakers as I take step after step. Finally, I open the door and fortunately the rain slows down enough for me to not get entirely saturated by the time I reach the entry to Delilah's and step inside, brushing my damp strands of hair out of my eyes.

The bell rings and the door closes behind me, my shoes, filled with water, slushing with every step as I make my way toward the counter. I don't know if she's working or not, I just want something to eat, but I wouldn't be opposed if she is working.

You know what? Fuck it. I'm not even hungry. I only came here for her.

"Welcome to Delilah's Diner, what can I do for you today?" a girl says in a thick southern accent. I lift my gaze to find Rory grinning at me across the counter. "Did I trick you? I've been practising." and her English accent returns.

Oh, have you?

Despite how sad she appeared on the phone not too long ago, she seems to be happier now. I don't know what happened after we last spoke hours ago. She hung up on me and then I drove laps around the city until I ended up hours away, and now I'm back here somehow.

I can't help but smile as I shake my head, taking in her appearance. Light make-up, other than the red winged eyeliner, which I've never seen on her before, but I must say it looks extremely pretty—even more than the usually jet-black shade she uses. Her hair is down, straight, and tucked behind her ears. Her septum is not visible, but the black ring pierced through her nostril is, as is the countless silver studs adorning her ears.