Javi, Come Home

CHAPTER TWO

    It's a five-hour drive south before they're back in Javi's hometown. Emery takes it in stride, seemingly not bothered by the monotony of it all. Javi sleeps for most of it. He had offered to take a shift driving, but Em had said, "No offense, but this is kinda my baby."

     So Javi dropped his seat back, shut his eyes, and was almost immediately asleep. It happened like that now, with the drugs, he was either out like a light or battling his thoughts for hours. There was no in-between.

     When Javi wakes, he is overwhelmed by the familiar. Their windows are cracked and the crisp, woody air has filled the car, smelling like nostalgia. He sits upright, pulling the seat back up.

     "Welcome home, sleepy," Emery says cheerfully. You'd never know she'd been mostly driving for the last two days.

    Javi's mouth is dry. He desperately needs water. They're close to home now, passing houses and stores he fully recognizes. Nothing seems to have changed in the years he's been gone. He's not ready, he realizes. He'll never be, but he's definitely not right now. He needs to go back, back thirty days ago, back seven years ago. Somewhere along the way he made a mistake, many mistakes, and they all have led him here.

     "Do you mind if we stop somewhere? I need to take my medicine and I'm not supposed to on an empty stomach."

     Emery glances at him, nodding vigorously. "Of course, yeah. Do you have anything in mind? If my memory serves me, there's a McDonald's nearby."

     He appreciates that she doesn't prod about the medication. The fact he's a person now on an anti-depressant, even if it is a low-dose one, makes him feel badly about himself. Like he's failed himself in a way he'd never thought to account for before.

     "We can stop at the 7-Eleven. I don't need anything heavy. Just like a protein bar or something," he answers.

     Emery knows the way and turns down the road, muscle memory taking over. Javi is a masochist. He must be, since he's the one that asked her to take him home, to stop at the 7-Eleven he frequented so much as a child the owner, Tito, had set up two folding chairs under the awning outside for him and Tate.

     He must be a masochist because it's a certain slow death driving through his memories.

     "You coming?" Javi asks after Em parks.

     She shakes her head. "Nah, I'll wait for you here."

     Javi nods once before getting out. It's not that late, only a little after six. The sun's starting to set and there's a cool breeze. It's comfortable. The lot's mostly empty and he's grateful. It's a small town. He knows word will travel fast that he's back and he can imagine who that'll get to.

     He grabs a red bull and a pint of 7-Eleven brand Mint Cookie ice cream. Tito is not at the register. It's a teenager who looks entirely unenthused to be working there, their phone still in hand, scrolling with their thumb as they ring the two items up.

     Javi grabs a spoon on his way out, popping it out of it's plastic wrapping as he steps back outside. Emery's gotten out of her car and is leaning against the hood smoking a red dab pen. "Secure the goods?" she asks, blowing the smoke out of the side of her mouth. He'd never gotten into weed but watching her certainly makes him want a cigarette.

     He's taken the lid off of his pint and is about to spoon it into his mouth, suddenly violently hungry. Like sleep, that feeling comes on sharply and leaves him just as quickly.

     He lifts the pint up towards her, a sort of cheers. They're not alone in the lot anymore, a pickup truck has parked a few spaces down. Javi didn't really notice it when he'd walked out, distracted. He doesn't even really care to notice it now, scooping ice cream into his mouth. The coldness presses against the roof of his mouth. He appreciates the grounding effect extreme temperatures have on his body. The cold makes him feel more alive than is his normal.