start googling, trying to see if there’s anything worth checking out in wherever-the-fuck-we-are DTLA. “We could try to get into that bar?” I nod my chin in the direction of its entrance, and the bouncer’s scowl deepens. I wince. What am I even talking about? I don’t have a fake ID. God, Zach, stop being such a douche.
She takes one look and shakes her head. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Okay…let me see….” I’m desperate to come up with a plan before she gets bored or remembers that she’s supposed to hate me. “There’s a place Conor mentioned to me on our way here that’s close. Are you okay to walk? Or should we get a Lyft?” She seems steadier, but I’d rather not have her collapse on me halfway there.
She shifts on her feet and sighs. Then she speaks for the first time since we got outside. It’s like she can’t quite control the muscles in her throat, because her voice rips through the night air. “We can walk!” A look of surprise crosses her face.
I pause for a beat, not quite believing her—not quite knowing what I’m supposed to do. She frowns a little when she realizes that I’m frozen, like she wants to just get a move on. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides, but they’re trembling. She glares at me and then starts walking. I have no choice but to follow. I try to stay close to her, to just let her know I’m here if she needs me.
We walk most of the way in silence, past bars and rundown buildings and an eclectic mix of people: old guys in expensive suits, people waiting in line to see bands play, and lots and lots of homeless people. It’s hot as hell and getting muggy. Clouds gather in the sky, and it looks like it might rain for the first time in forever. May stops several times along the way with her arms wrapped tight around her body, staring up into the sky, listless. Each time, I want to reach out—to ground her with my touch—but I don’t know if that would help her or if she’d freak out and punch me in the face.
About ten minutes in, something seems to shift inside her. She looks less like she’s forcibly dragging her body along the sidewalk and more like she’s regaining control. She blinks once, twice, like she’s focusing on the world around her for the first time since leaving the club. She stops in the middle of the sidewalk with no warning. “Zach. Where the hell are we going?”
I flush. I’m glad she sounds more like herself, although now that I’m being forced to say where we’re going out loud, I realize that the place I’ve chosen could be construed as sort of nerdy. But in the moment I couldn’t think of anywhere else…and who am I kidding—I am sort of nerdy. “It’s called the Last Bookstore.”
She raises her eyebrows. “That’s a real place? It sounds like something from Harry Potter.”
My mouth is dry, but I manage to choke out a laugh. “Yeah, it’s real.” God, what if she thinks I’m the biggest loser ever for taking her to a bookstore?
She shrugs. “All right. If you say so.”
I glance at the map on my phone. “It’s up here around the corner.”
She gives me a long look, then shrugs and motions for me to lead the way.
Zach and I stand in front of massive iron doors that lead into the store, and all I can think about is how when Miles and I dated, the only places he ever took me were parties where we’d get wasted and do stupid shit. He never wanted to do anything else. Back then I didn’t care; I liked getting fucked-up way too much. That’s what our super-healthy relationship was built on—being cool and partying. He and I would arrive somewhere together, he’d run off with the other guys on the soccer team, and we’d meet up at the end of the night to make out. Shocking that we didn’t get married, huh?
Lucy tried to get me to see that a couple times, but she stopped after it