Find Her, Keep Her (CFTM Sequel)

Chapter 31 (Part 1)

*Note: Click the Youtube link above to listen to the Audiobook Version of this chapter voiced by Kristen (kaelking12) featuring music by  All The Luck In The World, Lauv, and  The 1975.

Elias

So, Jersey's baked.

And I'm not talking happy-go-lucky-case-of-the-mary j-giggles-kinda-baked, I'm talking paranoid-as-balls-level baked.

If it were any other day, I'd just sit back, take in the moment, and watch her ride out the high.

But I can't handle this right now. She's laughing, smiling, and staring up at the sky like the weed running through her veins could catapult her straight through the clouds.

And the sight of it stings.

Even though it shouldn't.

Maybe I'm missing things I shouldn't.

Feelings I shouldn't.

But I'm jealous all the same.

And it's stupid, and childish, but I miss the buzz.

The weightlessness that used to lift me out of my skin, away from my scars, and take me somewhere else.

Anywhere else aside from San Diego.

The thing is, I'm not supposed to need an escape anymore.

I'm supposed to be better.

"Sober and strong."

Stable.

But I'm not.

I feel it.

This town's a trigger and every minute I'm here is another minute I feel like I'm losing control.

Again.

Back when San Diego sunrises used to be my everyday, I'd light up every morning just to keep myself sane after Lacey died.

I'd wake up, roll a couple blunts, and breathe in the fog until it I couldn't think straight. I'd lie in my room and float through my sadness a little green bud at a time.

And it worked. For a while.

It made waking up easier. It made living easier.

The guilt was a little less crushing.

Dad's bullying was a little less painful.

The silence on my phone was a little less loud.

And I fell in love with not feeling.

I was fine with being half-conscious as long as it kept my dad and the rest of real world at a distance.

But right now, I need that distance.

I need the buzz of something in my blood that'll kill the terror tearing through my chest at the thought of talking to my dad.

I want and don't want him to know what happened last night.

I want to tell him that the cop's punches hurt less than him not showing up for me.

But I can't.

I have to bite my tongue and let him act like some big fucking legal hero who'll save me from the SDPD.

He'll walk away from this looking like superman to everyone else, but he'll still be a monster to me.

This is how it is. This is how it's always been.