“I can’t.”

“You can, and I—”

“Forget it. You wouldn’t look at me the same way.” He slung his ratty backpack on his shoulder. “I gotta go.”

“Fine,” I said, pretending to be mad. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Vi…don’t be like that,” he said tiredly. “There’s not anything you can do, so don’t worry about it.”

“I said fine. You don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t.” I made a big show of stretching and yawning. “I’m going to bed.”

He studied me a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“Yep.”

Miller climbed out the window. When he was below my line of vision, I threw on my shoes and grabbed my sweatshirt, then peeked over the ledge. He had just reached the ground and was heading back to the woods. I counted to ten in my head, then climbed out as quietly as I could and ducked into the woods after him.

He was a dark, indistinct shape moving in the shadows, weaving between the looming trees, blocking out the moonlight. It was so dark, I could hardly see where to put my feet. I nearly had to give up and turn around. Then Miller turned on the mini flashlight he kept strapped to his backpack, and I followed his light deeper into the woods.

He took the access road that the park rangers had probably used a long time ago. It was overgrown now with greenery and potholes. Miller kept to the edge, heading northwest, deeper into the forest. I wondered if there were cabins this far in. The Golf Club was on the other side of the Pogonip. Maybe his mom worked there at night and they had housing for their employees…?

Wrong. So, so wrong.

Just off the old access road sat a station wagon. Old, olive green with wood panels. Rusted. Dented. T-shirts were tucked into the windows to make curtains. A woman’s T-shirt lay rumpled on the dash, along with fast food wrappers and empty drink cups. The car was sunken into the ground, like it hadn’t moved in so long, it was becoming part of the forest. My heart clenched as if I’d been punched in the chest. There was no destination this car would take them to. It was the destination.

I peeked from behind a tree as Miller unlocked the back hatch on the station wagon. He dragged a cooler out onto the ground, opened it, grabbed a water bottle. He sank on the closed cooler and drank the entire bottle down, then his shoulders slumped. Defeated.

My eyes filled with tears. I stepped out of the woods and onto the access road where the moonlight shone brightest.

“Hi.”

His head shot up in alarm, then he hung his head again.

“Hello, Vi,” he said dully.

“You’re not surprised to see me?”

“I’m more surprised you haven’t followed me sooner. Have you?”

“No,” I said. I was in front of him now, the two of us standing in the dark and my voice cracking. “Miller…”

“Don’t do that,” he said, jabbing a finger at me. “Don’t fucking cry for me, Vi. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

“I can’t help it. I care about you. And you never said… You never told me…”

“Why would I?”

“For help. You never asked for help.”

“There is no help. What can you do?”

I shook my head helplessly. “I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

“You give me food. That’s enough. It’s too much.”

“No…” I glanced around, trying to comprehend how two people’s lives could fit in one car. How they had to cram their entire selves into that small space.

How could Miller fit when he’s so much?

Tags: Emma Scott Lost Boys Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net