I thought --.

hoped --.

it might be a way back into Raymond's life. Your life. I'm...all alone.

510.

A Half-Assed Honk Signals my ride home is curbside.

Better not leave them waiting too long, or I might get stuck watching Joel fish for tuna.

Did I.

just think that? Fuck!

"I have to go. My ride is waiting."

I consider what else to say.

I'll start with a hug. Grandpa ...um ...weird ...stiffens a bit at my touch. "Thank you."

No, thank you. For giving me the chance to maybe get to know you. I don't want to die without family knowing or caring I'm gone.

Please stay in touch. Please?

"I'll do my best. But Daddy won't like it if he finds out."

We exchange phone numbers, and he walks me to the door.

I turn. "Can I call you Grandpa?"

His smile is weak, weary.

I'd be grateful if you did. Tell your ride to drive carefully.

I'd hate to lose you now.

The door closes behind me.

511.

Ugly Little Movies Replay themselves over and over in my head on the ride home.

Thankfully the return trip is faster than the outbound was. If I hear **

one more frigging giggle, I'm going to blow it completely.

I down yet another painkiller, chase it with a swig of the Turkey stashed in my bag **

We drop over the top of the mountain, where the hills bump and grind toward **

the valley. I've admired this view hundreds of times, but today it's different.

Today the hills are haunting, vague as spirits fooled into being **

each blurring into the next in cool bronze succession. Indistinct.

Yet somehow not quite meaningless.

Like information gleaned, but not **

completely absorbed. Like ugly little movies, in semiconstant replay.

512.

I Should Go Home My cell has four voice mails, three from Daddy: Where are you?

Where the hell are you?

Why did you leave without telling me where you were going?

Where the fuck are you?

When will you be home?

Are you okay? Do I have to come looking for you?

I have to call him, but first I pick up the fourth message.

Can't believe it, but it's Ty: **

Hey. Sorry I took so long to return your call. Been away at a seminar. When can I see you? Call me.

513.

Major Dilemma If I call Daddy, he'll want me to come home, and who knows what kind of mood he'll be in? ( I've got a pretty good idea.) **

But seeing Ty--and getting wasted--is way up on my priority list. If I get high enough, I can deal with Daddy, **

as long as he doesn't actually come looking and find me.

He wouldn't come looking, would he? And if he did, **

could he find me way out in the boonies at Ty's place?

Nope. No way. First I call Ty. He answers, second ring.

"Hey. I'm in town. Can you pick me up?" He agrees, so I have Brittany drop me at the park. "Thanks for **

the ride. See you." Off they go.

I chance a one-sided call to Daddy.

"Hi. I'm fine. I'm with friends.

Be home in a while."

Click.

514.

I'm Living Dangerously And I def know it. I power down the phone. I'll have to deal with whatever consequences Daddy **

decides to deal me. But meanwhile, I won't have my evening disturbed by the incessant interruption of a cell.

It takes Ty forty minutes to get to me, too much time with nothing to do but think about today.

And that means thinking about Daddy.

No wonder he didn't want Kaeleigh and me to have a childhood. He didn't.

I have no idea how I'll feel when he's punishing me, but right this moment, I can't help but feel sorry for him.

Finally the BMW cruises into view.

I wave and Ty pulls against the curb.

I give him my hottest smile. "Hey."

Hey. Great to see you again. Get in.

He opens the door for me, not quite a gentleman.

My place okay?

515.

His Place Is exactly what I have in mind.

The top is down on the Beamer, the sun low in the sky, and it's cold outside. So why am I hot?

Feverish? Maybe. But I'm not going to tell him that and maybe, just maybe, the fever is hunger, not sickness. I'm starving.

Starving for a high, a place to hang out inside my own head.

Starving for touch. Pain, even.

A way to feel. I need to feel.

Funny how when your life is mostly bullshit, you turn off feeling. Sometimes it's hard to turn it back on again.

Last time I let myself feel was up on the mountain with Ian.

When he turned away, I flipped the feeling off switch.

But now, just imagining what Ty has in mind for me, for us, I flip it back on again. Good or bad, I'm ready to feel.