And, his Corolla smells like mildew and stale burritos. He tried to start on me as soon as I got in the car. After five minutes of his questions and my silent answers, he’s gripping the steering wheel, his fingers turned white, but he’s finally shut up. “How did you know I was there? Or, where he lives?” I’m ready to get this show started even if I’m not sure if it’s a comedy or a tragedy. Jeremy pulls into what should be my parking space at Meadowood Green Apartments, but I don’t have a car. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.” He’s avoiding the question, but I’m honestly not that interested. I’m somewhere else. My head’s still laying back on Beckett’s chest, listening to his heart beat in my ear and feeling something as close to happy as I will ever get. Even if it was just temporary insanity. “Come on, let’s go inside.” His voice softens, and I know he cares about me. He might not be Beckett, but he’s been a steady force in my life. Maybe there’s something to be said for that old phrase—flames that burn twice as bright, burn half as long.
