"I want to love you again, but I don't know how. Maybe I'm not like the moon. The moon is pure, an incandescent light in the midst of bitter darkness.
I have never been that forgiving."
WARNING: This is Book Three. If you have not read "affluenza"...
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"SOMETIMES I FORGET how much I hate it when you drive my car," Braylen mutters from the passenger seat, his leg laid upon the dashboard despite me warning him that in an accident he'd be smushed completely. He only stuck his tongue out at me and did as he wanted anyway. I drove just a little bit slower. Just a bit.
My brows furrow as I glance over at him from the road. "And why is that?"
Braylen only shrugs. "It might be a control thing. Maybe if you told me where we were going I'd be more placid. So, where are we going?"
I try to fight a smile but it forces its way onto my lips, turning into a grin with ease as I pull my eyes back to the road. "Somewhere good. Somewhere important."
"Always so mysterious," Braylen retorts, pushing my shoulder with two of his fingers.
I glance over at him again. "That's the point, actually," I mutter. "I don't want to be mysterious. At least, not with you. I want you to know every part of me."
His lips fall into a soft smile, and based on his blush, I could tell he'd been trying to fight it too. "Where are we going?" he asks, slowly this time.
"Somewhere that hasn't seen me in years," I admit. "I used to come here every day after school. Me, my friends and I. It was Jeremy's spot, mostly."
Braylen hums in realization; I was surprised he remembered me ever mentioning Jeremy—I avoided talking about him too much. The freshest memories I had of him were his shaved head, the ratty hospital gown, helping him to the bathroom. The news. That he was gone. I didn't want to remember my friend that way, but it was all I could think of.
"What was he like?" Braylen asks, contemplatively. "Paint me a picture."
I gnaw on my bottom lip. "He was...short. Like, really fucking short. And scrawny. I don't think he ever fought anyone, but if he did, I would be worried that he'd just sort of keel over because of how brittle-looking he was. It made him him, though. He was really smart, too. Sort of knew everything about everything. Which is why he loved where we're going so much. I remember the first time he took me. It was just me and him. He was closest to me, I think. It took him a while to invite Nova. I think we liked that it was just the two of us, for a little, I suppose. Does that make sense?"
He nods, so I continue, a sad smile etching its way onto my face. "We'd spend hours here. Talking, sometimes, but mostly, not saying anything. I think that's what I liked most about him. I didn't have to say anything. I didn't have to be anything. We could just exist."
"He sounds amazing," Braylen whispers, voice quiet. "I'm happy you met someone like him."
I chuckle softly. Usually, whenever I mentioned my dead best friend to anyone, the responses would range from "that's so awful" to "I'm sorry for your loss." I liked that Braylen didn't say any of that to me. I don't think I could love him any more if I tried.
