Song for the Dead (Ada Palomino 2)

“I’ll take the couch,” he says, putting his suitcase in the tiny living room.

“What?” I ask, my ribs feeling tight. “Why?”

“Think it’s better that way,” he says, glancing at me briefly, giving me a small smile that doesn’t meet his eyes.

I want to bring up everything that just happened out there, the fact that he was okay with being my rebound, if that’s what this happens to be, but I stop myself. I’m tired of chasing him, poking him, prodding him, trying to get a reaction. I did the same with Jay, and look where that got me. Now I’m falling into old habits with Max.

I think it’s about time I back off.

He can sort himself out.

“Okay,” I tell him. “Suit yourself.”

Then I grab my suitcase and haul it to the bedroom, shutting the door to a million opportunities lying in wait.

Things are back to being awkward again.

At least in my head.

Max seems somewhat jovial as we head down Interstate 10 into Arizona, but I know it’s all for show. Now that I’m aware of what really lurks beneath him, all that empty black space, I can see when it rises to the surface. He gets this dark look in his eyes that even the most charming smile can’t wash away.

Last night I could barely sleep. I was so conscious of him being in the other room, and it was the first time we’d slept in other rooms in a long time. Actually, since we left Portland.

I kept playing over everything in my head. The way he kissed me, touched me, how he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me despite me being around him 24/7, the things he wanted to do to me: make me come, make me scream, make me beg. I mean, holy fuck was that hot.

Hot enough that the only way I could sleep was to get myself off a bunch of times and I didn’t even bother being quiet for the last one. If he heard me, then good. That’s what he gets for not following through.

But this morning he was acting like everything was normal, and when I asked him how he slept he just shrugged and said fine. Bastard.

He does seem to be in a rush today. We’ve only stopped for gas and he’s had the pedal to the floor the whole time. I guess his sense of urgency is starting to kick in when it comes to getting New Orleans.

Of course, the faster he drives, the quicker we get to Tucson and, honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for it.

I keep going over in my head what I would say to Jay if I saw him face to face and not in some dream. If I really knew it was real.

And…I don’t know.

I keep thinking I need to get some closure from him but in some ways, I feel like I already have my closure.

He made his choice.

He didn’t want to be with me.

And he may have loved me at some point but that love clearly wasn’t enough. He chose his role over me.

I have to learn to be okay with that.

Rejection sucks, especially when it’s your first love, someone you fell head over heels for, that you lost yourself to. Jay was everything to me. For the first time, I knew what it was like to have someone be my everything.

And then I learned what it was like to lose that.

I’m thinking that over, lost in my thoughts, trying to figure everything out, as the desert flies past. The sun is bright, the land barren, the kind of landscape that makes your mind stretch into infinity. Things repeat, like clockwork, until time doesn’t seem to matter much.

I think Max is locked in the same time warp. Occasionally I steal a look at him, at his big hands on the steering wheel, the bulk of his muscles in his white tee, and I think about last night. Then I think about all that he’s hiding underneath. All that I am too.

Eventually Max takes an exit into Tucson, my stomach immediately getting queasy.

“Where are we going?” I ask nervously.

“Where do you think?” he says, eyeing me briefly.

“I don’t know where he lives.”

“I might.”

This is news. “What do you mean? You have a ginger locator?”

He smiles. “Kind of. We’re all kind of connected in a way, if you want to go looking for a connection. I can home in on it. If you want me to, of course. Do you want me to?”

I find myself nodding, even though it doesn’t seem right.

But I’m also curious to see if Max can find his way there. Add another talent to his resume.

We drive around for a bit, getting lost in the suburbs, taking a few wrong turns, Max biting his lip in concentration as he drives.

And then it happens.