a bag of Skittles and flew off the bus, and slowly, Everett straightened, shifting his sunglasses from his head to shield his eyes.
They were all laughing and back clapping, and then Everett chucked Dale’s two bags beneath the bus and closed the door with a sharp bang.
“What changed your mind?” Mom asked when Dale approached to hug my parents goodbye.
“Well”—he clapped his hands together—“they’ll need someone to keep managing their dumb asses. I couldn’t leave them to the wolves.”
Mom’s lips were pressed tight, but she relaxed them enough to force a smile.
After another round of hugs, they all filed onto the bus. Nausea rocked me, fierce and dizzying, and I knew I couldn’t watch them leave.
With tears blurring my vision, I went back inside.
A second later, arms wrapped around me from behind, and the scent of whiskey, cigarettes, and clean linen invaded.
I didn’t have time to ask him why he’d been drinking before noon. Tilting my chin up, he quickly lowered his mouth to mine, his thumbs brushing at the tears dotting my cheeks. “You’re ruining me, Clover. Don’t cry.”
I said nothing, just kissed him again when he tried to pull away.
“Rett! He’d better not be taking a dump,” Hendrix called. “Let’s go already.”
In harsh waves, his chest rose and fell beneath my trembling hands, his grip on my face tight. “Check your nightstand,” was the last thing he said to me before he was gone, and everything changed.
“It’s too quiet,” Mom said the next morning, sadness visiting her eyes and mouth.
Dad hummed. “How long are we thinking before they break down or give up and come home?”
That made Mom smile, and she speared a piece of melon. “Three months.”
“Three?” Dad took a sip of tea, shaking his head as he set his mug down. “That’s generous.”
I knocked my scrambled eggs around my plate, knowing in my heart they were wrong but wishing they were right.
“I’m giving them two at most. They have Everett’s smarts to dig them out of trouble for a while, but they’ll eventually find trouble he can’t fix.”
I pushed back from the table. “I’m going to hang at Adela’s for a little while.”
Mom nodded. “You okay?”
No. I was far from okay, but I wasn’t allowed to be heartbroken because the boy I’d fallen in love with had left. I was only allowed to be sad my friends and brother had gone. “Yeah, it’s just weird here without them. I need a shake or something.”
My fingers had already started wearing the note he’d left behind with his very first guitar pick taped to it.
In a world filled with thorns and poisonous flowers, somehow, I was lucky enough to find you.
My clover.
He’d found me, but he didn’t want to keep me. The selfish part of me hoped my parents were right, and the band would come home sooner rather than later. For good.
Turns out they were wrong.
Hendrix stopped calling home as much after the summer ended, and all too soon, quiet was the new normal in the Sandrine house.
And I hated it.
“Shots, shots, shots,” Davis hollered, and I threw them back, feeling lightheaded but alive for the first time in months.
“Yeah, birthday girl!” Adela looped her arm around me, and I choked, laughing as vodka dribbled down my chin.
She’d been by my side through every broken heart fest, supplying ice cream, shakes, hugs, and an endless number of thrillers due to my inability to watch or read anything even slightly romantic.
She was the only one who knew, though I was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t exactly the case. Still, I was thankful for her. Grateful I had someone to help pull me through the blur of days that’d passed since Orange Apples took to the road.
I wiped the vodka from my chin, then tossed my arms into the air, dancing my way out of Davis’s kitchen.
“Girl, your phone is ringing like crazy,” Adela yelled over the music, pulling it from her purse.
I waved her off, and then, through the drunken haze I’d plunged into, it dawned.
Snatching the phone so fast that Adela laughed, I answered with, “Ever?” as I made my way outside onto the back deck.
It wasn’t that much quieter outside, but I still heard him. “Happy Birthday, Clover.”
“I miss you,” I said. “So fucking much.” I ignored the people around me who either snickered or moved away.
“Where are you?”
“Where are you?” I volleyed.
“Tennessee,” he clipped. “Answer the question.”
“I’m at a party.” I stopped to hiccup. “Davis’s parents are out of town, and it’s my birthday,