At six in the morning I ring our lead singer, Michael, from a street in Jersey City.
“What the fuck, Rowe?” he grumbles.
“I’m in.”
It takes him a moment to catch my meaning, and then he chuckles. I’ve been the only Lascivious member who hasn’t yet agreed to make the suggested move to L.A. We can focus on our music full time. I’ve been holding out, wanting to remain close to Anna.
“Hell yeah, baby.” His voice is raspy with sleep. “You been up all night?”
“Yeah,” I say.
He laughs again. “We’re gonna rock that shit in L.A. Wait and see how much ass you get out there, man. You won’t regret it.” He yawns into the phone.
I feel none of his enthusiasm. I feel nothing. “Go back to sleep, mate.”
“Yep. Later.”
We disconnect and I hail a cab for the Newark airport, wondering if I’ll ever feel anything again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Postcard
“It’s like somebody stole the biggest piece of me,
I may never see it again, I may never see you again.”
—“Before the Fall” by The Rescues
I should have hired movers, but I didn’t trust anyone to touch my drums. I leave behind my bedroom set but take everything else from the basement with the help of Michael, Raj, and Bennett. I don’t think Father is thrilled about not having me under his thumb any longer, but he approves of my continuing on as a musician. I haven’t told him I plan to drop out of school when I turn eighteen in March.
When we’re loaded up and the guys leave, I trudge to Father’s office to say good-bye.
He doesn’t get up from his oversized leather chair, but he lifts his eyes, scrutinizing my long-sleeved T-shirt and jogging bottoms slung low.
“Change into something more attractive before you go.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You’re still expected to come to Atlanta to help Marissa as needed.”
My already tight muscles clench further. “Yes, sir.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to drive that monstrosity across the country yourself like a bloody commoner.” I look down at my hands as he continues. “I still expect you to work along the way.”
“Without question, sir.”
“I have very high expectations of you in California. I’m sure you won’t mind if my Legionnaires or I pop in now and again.”
“Of course not, Father. I look forward to your visits.”
He stares at me as if trying to detect my bluff, and I stare back, unblinking. Finally, he nods, finished with me, and then turns in his chair to face the lewd images on his computer.
I nod to myself and turn to leave.
I drive the same route I took with Anna, only I can’t go faster than fifty-five miles per hour because I’m pulling the SUV behind me and the damn thing swerves back and forth. So I take my time, blasting my music to drown out my thoughts.
Anna is everywhere. She is smiling at every landmark and showing kindness to every stranger I encounter. She is laughing at every silly billboard and humming along to my music. When I reach Arizona and my route changes, she is with me as I stop and walk to the ledge of the Grand Canyon. She is staring in awe at the magnitude, feeling small and fragile.
She is with me because she’s inside me and I cannot rid myself of her.
I’ve made too many mistakes when it comes to Anna. I endangered her because of my own selfish motives and desires. I wanted her for myself, even when I knew I wasn’t good enough.
I want to be good enough.
I shove my hands in my pockets and kick a rock. It goes soaring off the ledge and I never hear it hit. I’ve been waiting for something from the outside to change me—to kick me, to force me into a different life. But after watching Anna at the summit, grabbing her beliefs by the horns despite the dangers, I’ve realized it won’t be some outside power that changes me.
It has to be me.
Anna and Kopano have control over themselves. Only I can control me. And it’s time to make a change. I’ve always lived as if I had no choice, but it’s not true. There is always a choice, no matter the consequences. I can’t live Father’s lifestyle any longer. I can’t love Anna and continue to be with other people. I’m tired of hating myself. I’ll never be good enough for Father or Anna, or God, for that matter. But if I can be proud of myself, for once, that will be a bloody good start.
I turn to go back to the van but stop when a bird flies past my face, landing in the gravel at my feet. I swear the damned thing is staring up at me. It even cocks its head to the side. I nudge my foot toward it, trying to scare it away, but it only bristles a little and hops closer. He puffs his feathers at me and coos.
It’s a dove, I realize, and a lump rises in my throat. My own personal peace offering.
“Sod off, stupid bird.”
It coos at me again and my palms begin to sweat. Just because I reach out to Him with one blasted prayer and decide to change my life, the Maker thinks I’ve suddenly switched sides?
I look up at the heavens and shake my head. “This is nothing to do with You. You want peace with me? Get rid of the demons, and then we’ll talk peace.”
When I look back down, the bird is gone. I let out a rattling breath and jump into the van, throwing the thing into drive. My hands are shaking and I accelerate too hard, spitting up gravel under the tires. I pull off at the visitors’ center, and lean my head against the steering wheel, trying to shake off the bizarre bird episode.