Dear Augustus | I Never Let Go ✓

15 | Familiar Encounters

Smoothie Shack still has the same brick exterior but with a valet service now.

"Get ready to be dazzled," Emma squeezes my arm as we enter the Shack. The old setup of sitting booths and the counter serving smoothies, milkshakes, and coffee is still there. We don't settle into our usual place by the side of the window, though. I haven't been there for almost three years, but the moment I see a young couple nestled in the booth where we spent so many lazy evenings, Augustus, I feel like running out of there in the next breath.

Although, before I can act on my impulse, Emma drags me down the narrow hallway towards the other end. We show our Ids to the bouncers guarding a small doorway, and we are heading downstairs to the basement. I'm sure this basement wasn't there when we were in high school.

"Are you sure we're safe in this place? It's getting a little creepy, Em," I say, falling behind Emma.

"It's as safe as heaven." She chuckles.

The staircase opens to a space with the party crowd. It's a speakeasy. We don't have to go to the other end of the town for a nightclub anymore, just four blocks from our house. It certainly blew my mind. There's music and laughter spread across the dimly lit room, along with a crowd that resembles half of the town population.

"This is crazy, Em. I'm certainly settling back in town after college." I yell, tipping my head down to her ear. She pulls me further inside, and my eyes follow the small den-like nooks built across the perimeter, although most of them are empty.

"I know, right," she says, gesturing for me to slide into one of the red booths as she sits across from me. " It's concert night tonight. That's why most of the town population is here. They bring in a new band every week. You'll love it, V."

Concert. Band. The words echo in my head like a deadbeat, accelerating my heartbeat. Those two words always remind me of your deep voice.

I cough out a laugh to hide the ache. "Let's not starve ourselves while we wait for the concert to start."

"Any second now," she beams with excitement. Her eyes flick towards the mountain of people around the stage by the bar, a piece of instrumental music thrumming through the room, and the lights turning dim.

Since Emma doesn't want to miss the fun, we ditch the menus and order our regulars. She asks for curly fries, salad with bud light, while I settle for wedges with gin and tonic.

"I'm happy that your Dad doesn't have cancer." She says, shoving a mouthful of fries and chasing it down with the beer.

I give her a nod, finishing my drink to tone down the dread that still lingers inside my head. He doesn't have cancer, but he's still sick.

She places her hand over mine and gives it a light squeeze. "My Mom says he'll be fine."

Her mom is my father's neurosurgeon, the best in town hence why Emma knew about my Dad's condition even before me.

"I'm still scared..." my voice drifts back down my throat as the crowd breaks with a nerve-breaking roar, people streaming out of the nooks down to the bar, their excitement spreading across the room. The loud thumping of drums vibrates through my ears, and then the first pull of strings, the infamous, unmistakable riff of the guitar, fries my heart, brain, my insides.

"Violet!" Emma calls after me as I rush out of my seat towards the herds of people blocking my vision of the stage. "Are you that excited about the music? Wait. Can you wait for me, Violet!" She holds my wrist, trying to stop me or join me- I'm not sure. But I'm dodging through the cheering crowd, wiggling my way to the front. My soul is gliding towards the voice I've been craving for years. The waiting has reached its crescendo now that it's about to end.