57. Priceless

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With Cruz in the driver's seat, we back out of my dad's driveway. Using the GPS on my phone, I help him navigate through the streets of Tempe until we reach the I-17. Once Cruz and I leave the Phoenix metro area, we're greeted by an expanse of clear blue skies and rocky desert landscape. Such sights are trademark visuals of Arizona. Gradually, the barren scenery starts coming alive the further we move up north. Lush, green pine forests come into view, replacing the tall, prickly Saguaro cacti and Palo Verde trees.

I stare out the window and will my mind to drift away to a happier time in my life. I'm too emotionally drained to think about the present. It feels too heavy. Too depressing. I attempt to wipe everything from my brain except the good stuff. My focus lands on Cruz. He's my happy place. We once talked about taking a road trip together. 

I steal a peek at my man. 

Maybe, later, we could take a little road trip for our first time. 

His words from before replay themselves in my mind.

Make it a memorable getaway, you know?

Cruz and I are taking a "little road trip" right now. Instinct tells me that it'll definitely be a "memorable getaway." I hope we can make some new memories to cover up the bad ones from today.

Blushing slightly, an unexpectedly naughty part of my brain veers toward the motel room I'll be sharing with Cruz tonight. Ron and Aunt Katrina won't be lurking down the hallway anymore. Our classmates won't be around to judge us, either. Cruz and I aren't going to become step-cousins. It'll just be the two of us and one big bed. A flare of heat flows through me.

Shit.

I didn't know that it was possible for someone to be depressed and horny at the same time. I clear my throat and try to get my hormones under control.

My cough catches Cruz's attention. Giving me a quick glance, Cruz notices my flushed expression. He asks, "Everything okay?"

"Not really," I confess with a strained laugh.

"What's wrong?"

In truth, no matter how much I want to shove aside my unhappy thoughts, I have too much on my mind, and all of the chaos keeps threatening to punch through the thin barrier of my self-control. I think of Ron. I think of my dad. I think of how fucking unfair it was for Cruz and me to be born with shitty parents like them. My sadness and disappointment toward them quickly morph into anger.

Sharply, I mutter, "Your dad and my dad really fucked us over by kicking us out."

Cruz hums in agreement, "Men like them aren't fit to be parents."

I couldn't agree more. Suddenly, it feels way too easy to pin the blame for everything that has ever gone wrong in life on my dad. The selfish fucker is the reason why I keep failing and failing and failing at life no matter how hard I try to persevere. He's the reason why Persie and I were separated after our mom died. He's why I started selling weed in the first place. He's why I attended Sam's party at all. He's why I walked in on Chrissa making out with Brody. He's why I ended up scared shitless, roofied, and half-naked in bed that night.

God.

It's too much. 

It's all too much. 

I want to weep, but I'm too angry for the tears to fall. Cruz said that my kindness was what attracted him the most. At the moment, I feel like a fraud. More than anything, I want to be the person he sees in me, but I no longer possess the strength to care. 

Persie's face flashes across my mind. 

Suzie's unread email is still waiting to be read. 

How can I help Persie and Suzie when I can barely help myself?

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