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"I haven’t been there in like four years" I glance at the screen of ain After what happened the other night, I’ tio home, Avery"

I shove my phone intoho about ho from my ht know so his past kind of crosses over with h I don’t want to look for her personally, Jax’s words echo in my mind

It’d be nice to know if she was dead or alive

"Well, I’ there ever changes," he says as we turn around and start back toward the table saw "Why did you leave, though? I mean other than the obvious factor"

"And what is the obvious factor?" I ask, knowing full hat he’s talking about but I don’t want to acknowledge it That I lived in a place where most people went nowhere, stuck in the rut that continues to repeat through generations And while I did go so

"You really don’t know the answer to that?" He kicks a rock across the driveway and it skitters toward the outhouses

I sigh as we arrive at the coolers by the driveway "Well, I get that you have to leave the state if you want anything to happen in your life," I say, retrieving aof licorice from my back pocket

He brushes strands of his hair out of his eyes then unfastens the tool belt fro happen?"

I shrug, not wanting to lie to him, but I can’t tell him the truth either "More or less" I chew on a piece of licorice and offer Tristan one, which he takes "And I like it here a lot better than in Wyorab a bottle of water then sit down on the ground "It’s warmer And different And near the ocean"

He places the tool belt on the ground then takes a seat beside arette "Do you go to the ocean a lot?"

I unscrew the cap from the bottle of the water "Sometimes"

He picks at the scab on the side of his hand "I’ve never actually seen the ocean before"

I pour a bit of water down the back ofas I hoped "Never? Really?"

He rests back on his hands "I’ I’ve just spentpointless shit that never took me anywhere" He looks so depressed and perhaps that’s why I say what I do next

"Well, est, practically strangling the water bottle in , and we’re supposed to be friends so I ht?"

He stares at ently pries the water bottle frorip "You really want to do that? Go to the beach and hang out with me?" He seems doubtful

"Sure Why not?" I say indifferently, but etiness doesn’t match my words

"I can think of a few reasons" He eyes me over as he opens the bottle and pours water all over his neck and down his shirt The wet fabric clings to his awk at hi that I didn’t make up that stupid rule

"Still wantthe he it over his head

"Yes" My mouth feels as dry as sand I snatch the water frohs at et up and dust the dirt off o to work"

He stands up and stretches out his legs "But I thought you didn’t work until later at night?"

"Nor for a teet a little intense around this time of year so he always hires extra help on the weekends for a couple of ets cooler I’m supposed to help with the interviews because he seeood sense of people’s characters Although, according to Charissa, it’s because he wants to get into my pants"

"I’ve seen the way he looks at you," Tristan says, annoyed "I think Charissa "

"You sound jealous," I joke over the excruciating truth--that the only reason I still have the job at the bar is because Benny does want to get into my pants I wish I could quit, but I can’t afford to

"I am" Tristan’s expression is dead serious

A tiny rush of approval shoots throughdown that road "But it’s a job so it doesn’t ravation "She’s been on e his foot with mine "What? Pretty Boy doesn’t want to work?"

"No, that’s not it" His jaw is set tight "I really, really fking do Badly In fact I’ers through his hair, stressed out "I’ a job when I’ve only worked as a dealer"

"But you’re going to school, right?" I wonder why he suddenly appears so stressed out about this "That has to help"

He shrugs as his arm falls to his side "Not really No one wants to take a chance on a twenty-three-year old ex-druggie/dealer, who has no work history and whose eneral studies" He doesn’t look at me "It’s pretty clear how much of a waste I am"

"Hey, you’re not a waste" This time I kick his foot in a very serious manner "I hate when people do that--feel sorry for theazes out at the road in front of the house "It’s just the truth"

"No, it’s not," I argue persistently "And whoever told you that is a fking liar"

He glances at me from the corner of his eye "Who said anyone told me that? Maybe I arrived at that conclusion all byof my mother and Conner and how they helped rip my self-esteeave up "Yeah, maybe you came to the conclusion yourself, but there’s usually outside help that pushes you in that direction… beats you down…" I trail off as

Everything

Was

Taken

Away

Bit