Supernovas & Escapism

Chapter Thirty-Nine

      "Do you ever think about running and never looking back?"

     These are the words that slowly tumble from my mouth when Garth parks the car a little ways down the street. Unlike most nights where he would just set me home—and have a pained face at the thought of me leaving the car—he instead decides to drop me off at my Aunt's. It's the first time he's ever been here, and from the look on his face, he's hesitant to let me go.

     It's understandable really. My home, the place he usually leaves me, is not a safe place, so how can he trust this new environment.

     Xavier turns down the radio, setting it to a faint whisper in the space between us. His dark eyes, which are still red from all the crying, are locked onto the road in this visceral way that I think he might be stuck. Almost like a computer that's had to reboot itself.

     "All the time," he says, not a hint of wonder or even worry in his voice. "But I don't because I was raised better than to run away from my problems."

     I nod in understanding. It's a complete façade though. Given the chance to run and never look back, I would always take it. Life had given me to many problems to count, and just the idea to free yourself from that felt liberating.

     "Maybe sometimes it's better to just get away from your problems," I replied steadily. What was I even doing right now? Trying to convince him to run away with me? To put his feet against the accelerator and not worry about the consequences? "Problems keep us rooted to the places we want to escape from."

     Eyes turning to meet mines, I could see the red rawness that still set in them. It was so weird to see him like that; so vulnerable that it looked like anything might have set him off.

     "Escaping has never been my thing Garth," he said slowly. "How can you truly enjoy life when you spend the majority of it trying to escape the ghosts of your past."

     A weighty feeling hit me in the chest, causing guilt to fill through the cracks that had been left behind. We'd both been running from some ghosts. Except my ghosts weren't really ghosts, but full-blown apparitions. Every time bone knocked on bone, I could only hope that it was a ghost; at least then it would seem less cruel.

     "Sometimes running is all I can think about," I confess.

     I can tell I've unsettled him by the way he shifts in his seat. And I can't help but wonder to myself just how more awkward I have to make things between us.

     If there was a switch in my head that would just turn my brain off then you can be sure as hell that I'd be flipping it. But being careless was a liberty given to those who could be careless without consequence. Numbing my head, my thoughts, would only take me so far in this life.

     "Sometimes I wonder what it's like to just go away." The words come out cold and calculated, but at the same time sincere. "Just pack a bag and take off."

     "Where would you go?" he asks, not questioning the words, or holding an air of malice in his tone.

     "Does it matter?" I ask, already knowing the answer. I know more than anything where I would want to be. I'd want to be in the place where life seemed so much easier, and all I had to worry about were inconsequential little things.

     Xavier shrugs. "If it matters to you, then it sure as hell matters to me." It's like the rawest version of a punch to the gut that I can describe because it absolutely blindsides me without reason. There's something behind his words that I've longed for for so long. His voice arrives at my ears tempered, slow and patient. "Where would you go?" he asks again, this time his voice not reaching above an audible whisper.

     A slow breath leaves me as I turn my eyes away. It takes a few moments for the words to form in my throat, but when they do I realize I mean what I say. If I could leave right now and not look back, then I wouldn't even hesitate.

     "Santa Monica."

     His brow raises. "In California?"

     I roll my own eyes in return. "Do you know any other Santa Monica's?" A dry laugh fills the air and I'm half surprised to find that it's coming from my mouth.

     Xavier nods, as if this makes the most sense in the world. "We can go to Santa Monica," his words come out softly. "Just you and me Garth. We can go anywhere you want, just as long as you stay here."

     That last word rolls and tumbles in my head. I'm not a suicidal kid, I swear I'm not. What I am, is the type of kid who provokes others to make moves. Xavier wants me to stay here with him, as in not go away in my head. He doesn't want me to shut him out. There's a pleading look behind him that seems to replace all the sharpness that his features usually held.

     "Once we graduate-" he starts.

     "I can't wait that long Xavier," I snap back, lips curling into a frown.

     Once more, he nods. "Then this time next week. This time next week we blow this popsicle stand."