Page 19 of If the World Was Ending

“My van was hit by a tree, and the roof collapsed.”

“What does that have to do with your head?” Andy asked, confused, then moved his gaze away and waved at someone who had just walked in.

“Well, Dad, I was asleep in it while it happened.”

Andy finally looked startled. His gaze went back to Colby’s face, and he looked harder at the cut. “Maybe the photographer can Photoshop it out of the pictures.”

He lifted an arm in the air. “Keatons! Future Keaton,” he winked at Gina, “this way.”

Andy started walking toward the gate that opened onto the path to the beach. Colby let his family wander by first and took a moment to glare at Brodie. Brodie opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “Yeah. You know as well as I do you can’t fix the way he treats me now. The damage is clearly done.”

Colby stomped off along the path to endure the rest of this afternoon.

Chapter 6

We’re all assigned a beaver upon birth

Briar was silent most of the car ride back, but she put on a seventies playlist, which Colby knew was her way of trying to soothe him. He stared out the window and watched the side of the freeway blur by. He’d done the Irish goodbye just as the sun started to skim the ocean. Now the sky above them was shades of pink, orange, and purple, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his smashed van, eat an edible, and fiddle with a new melody on his guitar.

“Well, safe to say you don’t need to do that again,” Briar said finally as she veered off the 101 at the Santa Monica Boulevard exit. “But if you feel obligated to go to the wedding or whatever event your family throws next, I’m your perma-date. You know I’ve got you.”

“I think my mom thinks we’re actually dating,” Colby grumbled. “My dad doesn’t because if he did, he’d treat me like I actually existed again.”

“Fuck your dad,” Briar said emphatically as she pulled onto Hayworth. “And what’s with your mom anyway? She looked different.”

“Mid-life crisis maybe? I don’t know. She’s nice to me, but she doesn’t confide in me. She wanted a daughter for that.” Colby pulled his hair out of the low bun he’d yanked it into for this clusterfuck of a day. It had too much product in it and was crusty on the sides. He didn’t want to go to the gym to shower or bother Hunter and Leandra to see if he could shower there, so he contemplated taking a quick dunk in the building’s pool. Soak off the stench of the day. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Like I said, I got you.” Briar pulled carefully up to the curb, but it was a yellow zone, so she wouldn’t be staying. Not that he had anywhere to entertain her anyway. She turned in her seat and reached for his forehead, her fingertips barely ghosting the cut. “Let’s end this on something positive. When do you meet the band guys?”

“Day after tomorrow.” Colby wasn’t convinced that was positive news, but Ford had replied to his email, and he was meeting two other guys—a drummer named Kenner and a bassist named Trevor- at Range at three on Tuesday. Luckily, the club was located on Fountain between Trader Joe’s and the apartment, so he could walk there on his way home from his shift. It just meant he’d have to bring his guitar to work.

She smiled at him. “I did a reading for you, and the energy around this is all good. Really good.”

“Okay,” Colby said flatly. He actually found shit like astrology and tarot cards, both of which Briar lived by, super interesting, but he was in a mood tonight.

She gave up, which was for the best. Unclipping her seatbelt, she leaned over and hugged him. She kissed his cheek, then pulled back. “Let’s meet Tuesday night and debrief. I’ll pick you up, and we can grab a bite. My treat.”

He hated how often she treated him, but he didn’t want to say no. He loved his time with her, and a free meal was always something he could use. “Sure. I’ll text.”

He unlocked the door and got out of the car. “Thanks again.”

“Be strong. Stay safe. Wear a condom.” She winked at him.

“Be strong. Stay safe. Fuck the haters,” Colby mumbled back, not feeling their usual ritual.

“Fuck the Keatons,” Briar corrected, with a wink. “With a condom.”

He almost smiled and then wandered down the driveway, glancing at the windows above the parking spot. An elderly Asian lady lived in the first-floor apartment directly above the parking spot, and above that was Hunter and Leandra’s apartment. The windows were open, and he could hear voices. They both sounded angry, but he couldn’t make out the words. He tried to ignore them, but it was definitely Hunter and Leandra. Colby quickly unlocked his van, climbed in, and crawled into the back through the seats. He had to stay on his knees in the back to avoid the crushed roof, and he’d moved the mattress onto the floor so there was hardly any room. He hated how uncomfortable his home had become. He changed into some swim shorts, grabbed one of the two towels he owned, and headed to the pool.

He technically didn’t live here and shouldn’t be using the pool, but Hunter told Colby to just say he was visiting from out of town and staying with him. Hunter said no one ever used the pool. And he was right because it was there, empty and untouched, air smelling faintly of chlorine and the still water reflecting the colors of the sunset. The area was wrapped in a wrought iron fence to separate it from the walkways that led to the apartments in the two-story, U-shaped building. One corner of the pool area had a barbecue that looked like it hadn’t been touched in a decade. There was a picnic table next to the towering palm tree in that corner. The other side was grassy and had three old, rusty metal sun loungers. Nothing about the space was appealing except the pool, which was tended to regularly. Colby had seen the company come to balance the water.

Colby dropped his towel on one of the loungers, walked to the pool’s edge, and walked right into the deep end without even testing the water. It was cool but not cold and felt nice. He stayed underwater, swimming toward the shallow end, and only popped up when his feet could touch the bottom easily. His hair was plastered to his face and neck. Colby started doing butterfly laps. He wasn’t a great swimmer, but he needed to exhaust himself.

When he was done, he sank to the bottom of the pool and then pushed off it, breaching the surface with his face tipped up so his hair would slick back. That’s when he noticed he wasn’t alone. Hunter was lying on one of the rusty lounge chairs. He was wearing a ripped black T-shirt with a band on it Colby had never heard of and a pair of sweats. His eyes were closed, and his hands were folded across his middle, elbows on the rusty metal arms. His black hair looked thick and shiny but was a mess, like he hadn’t brushed it. The guy was super good-looking, at least to Colby. He was the type of handsome that you wanted to decipher but couldn’t.

“Hey,” Colby said.

“Hey,” Hunter replied. He unfolded his hands and reached down next to the lounger with one, pulling up an unopened bottle of Dos Equis. “Want a beer?”