Page 6 of Find My Way Down to You

“You can go now,” he says with a dull, uncaring voice.

His eyes—black, they’re black—look past me. As if I’m not there.

Invisible.

Whatever I planned to say fades as the music overhead comes into focus. I recognize the song. I haven’t heard it inforever. On purpose. But it streams through my ears, clear as water.

The lyrics slam into me like the other car that night:Gonna leave this world for a while.

A wave rises in my stomach. It swells fast. Fills my lungs. My vision blurs like morning condensation on a window. I’m drowning, and once again, those lyrics are the last words I hear before everything falls apart.

“Auggie?”

Distantly, I hear Max’s voice under the tide. Almost as loud as Tom Petty’s singing. The voice that haunts my nightmares.

“I need air,” I gasp out.

My feet carry me past her. She tries to follow.

“Alone,” I snap, unintentionally. “Give me a minute. I’m fine.”

I’m not.

I never am in these moments. But admitting that out loud is too risky.

A tear slices hotly over my cheek. I stumble through the kitchen. Past Angela’s closed office door.

My shoulder slams through the pizzeria’s back door. I ignore the throb it leaves behind. All I want is for the music to stop.

The door swings shut behind me, snuffing out the noise. Fresh air doesn’t come fast enough. I cough as rot creeps into the back of my throat. Ripe trash and filth.

My wet eyes trail over my surroundings. I’m in the alleybehind the restaurant. A thin passage between buildings.

The wave continues to push against my skin. It screams for release. For me to open the gates. I refuse. It’ll be too much.

I’ll never be able to stop it.

Bile sits sour on my tongue. Wincing, I swallow it down.

It happened so long ago.I should be past this by now, I remind myself.

Stray tears fall on my lips. Salt on my tongue. I’m too scared to close my eyes. To see it all again against the backs of my lids. After another long breath, I cycle through the tips I’ve learned from watching online videos about how to handle situations like this.

I brace my back against the nearest wall. The bricks are sun-warmed under my fingertips.

What do you see?one of the videos asked.

A blue sky bruised pink and crimson. Like the sun refuses to go down without a fight.

Next, I focus on what I can hear. Cars honk in the distance. Halogen lights flicker on. The tiny splash from a cat crossing over a growing puddle. A pipe must’ve burst recently.

Then, footsteps. Nearby.

Movement crosses my periphery. Through the unshed tears blurring my vision, I recognize the shape of a person. Someone emerges from behind a dumpster.

His face wakes a sharp gasp from my lungs.

Cary.