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I lean my head back against the seat and look up through the sunroof. “Why can’t things just be simple?”

“I don’t know,” he breathes.

I go to school every day and look at everyone, wondering why they get to be so free and happy while I’m sentenced to a life of suffering. Their lives are so easy. I’m jealous. I wish I could live in the shallow like they do instead of drowning in the depths of despair for no reason at all.

None.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s this place, that if I run far enough, I could leave it behind.

Whateveritis.

Maybe freedom is the cure.

What if there’s nothing wrong with me at all?

What if it’s everyone else?

“You ever feel like getting out of here?”

“You mean Edmonds?”

I roll my head to the side and look at him. “Yeah.”

“All the time.”

“Where would you go?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think about moving but never seriously. What about you?”

“I do the same.”

“Are you really wanting to leave and go somewhere new?” When I nod, he adds, “Maybe we should start thinking about it more seriously.”

“We?”

“You aren’t planning on ditching me, are you?” he asks with a mild smirk, which causes me to grin.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m serious,” he tells me, and I swear it gives me a particle of hope, something I can hold on to that will get me through graduation.

The idea of the two of us running far away from this place and starting fresh somewhere new has me wanting to hug him because I doubt I would’ve actually found the courage to do it on my own. But to know that he’s with me on this, that we could do it together, snuffs the doubt and makes me believe this might actually be possible.

When Sebastian reaches over and turns down the heat, I become aware of how hot I am and shrug off the blanket. I turn to toss it into the back seat and notice he has a bag and a pillow back there as well.

“What’s all this?”

“Hmm?” He looks over his seat and then back to me.

“Are you sleeping in your car?”

He isn’t quick to respond as shame washes over his expression, but eventually, he tells me the truth. “Sometimes.”

“Why?”

He faces the windshield and looks out toward the Sound. “Shit gets really bad at my house.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”