Chapter Twenty-Eight. Case

By the time I make it out to my car, Winnie's already in the driver's seat, banging her head to something very loud and with a whole lot of synthesizers. I toss my bag in the back seat and climb next to her.

"Whitesnake?" I guess. I don't know a ton of '80s music, but a decade with Walker taught me enough.

Winnie laughs. "Yep. Full disclosure, I'm not really well versed in music in general and definitely not '80s rock, so I went to my dad and asked him for a starting-off point and created a playlist of classics."

"You asked your dad?" I'm touched. Winnie rarely goes to her dad for anything.

"Yeah, well. I was in a pinch." She shrugs and passes me her phone. "I knew more than I thought, just not by name. It's not a total lost cause. I thought we could listen on our way to Austin, and by tonight, we'll be experts!"

I scroll through her playlist, impressed despite myself. This is several hours' worth of music. Walker would be super into it.

"And don't tell Kerry, but I made cupcakes for the occasion. Well, Garrett and I did. They won't be as good as whatever Kerry baked, but we had fun decorating."

Suddenly ravenous, I reach in the back seat for the plastic container and pop the top, immediately grabbing a chocolate-frosted one and stuffing my face with it. I don't hold back my moan. "Want one?" I ask after practically swallowing it whole.

"Um, no thank you." She shakes her head, her eyes full of laughter. "My dude, it's not even lunchtime."

"There aren't any rules on road trips. Le temps n'est pas reel," I declare.

"Time isn't real, huh?"

"I still can't believe we're doing this," I say.

"Believe it, man. I would've had T-shirts made, but I ran out of time. This is officially happening, and not to be weird on main, but I'm leaving the passenger-side back seat open for Walker. I know he's probably busy with his girlfriend, but I can't imagine he'd miss this weekend. He's the one who bought the tickets a year in advance, after all."

The way she says it, so matter-of-factly, sucks the air out of my lungs. In a good way.

"I used to see him all the time. After he died," I explain. "In my head, obviously, but to me, he was there."

Her eyes stay on the road, but her lips quirk in my direction, and I'm fortified enough to tell her the rest.

"I would call him Ghost Walker," I rush on. "And whenever shit went down, it was like he was right there."

"Not so weird on main, then. In that case, I should also tell you I left space in the middle in case his girlfriend came, too. Double date, you know?"

"No," I say. "Not so weird."

"So." She clears her throat, turning her full attention back to the highway in front of us. "Was this at the same time as the list stuff?"

I reach for another cupcake. "Yeah. You should have heard the way I reamed him out on top of that silo. Could have died climbing that thing."

"No kidding. And what about the friend thing? With me? Like, I know how we are now, obviously, and so it all worked out for the best, but I can't imagine what you must have thought when you first saw that."

"Actually, I spent the first month cussing at him because you were intimidating as fuck, and it was abundantly clear you hated me. I was in way over my head."

Winnie laughs freely, and I can't help but smile, despite my chagrin. "Excellent. That's exactly the vibe I was going for. In my defense, you didn't give the best first, second, or even third impression. And you were hooking up with any girl who batted her lashes at you back then, so I couldn't feel too special."

The cupcake turns to cement in my throat, and I choke, coughing until my sinuses run.

"Sorry, was that supposed to be a secret?"

I swallow, take a full breath, and swallow again. When I think it's safe to speak again, I croak, "No, not a secret. Not my proudest moments, uh…"

"Relax, Case. I'm not trying to put you on trial here. I felt like it might be the elephant in the room or whatever, and I've been meaning to bring it up. But saying, ‘Hey, about that time you had sex with Christine…' felt awkward."

I relax at her tone. "I don't regret what happened, mostly. Walker died before… well. Anyway." I look to the back seat with an apologetic expression. Sorry, man. "It's not an excuse or anything. It's just for some reason I zeroed in on that. Like, it was this one thing I could take the reins on in my own life. I wasn't going down like that."

"A virgin?"

"Yeah. That said, I may have overcompensated."

She lifts a shoulder and tilts her head toward me, pragmatic as always. "Having sex is a natural human… thing."

"I know."

"I haven't had sex yet."

"Okay."

"Not that I don't want to. Opportunities haven't presented themselves."

The silence settles around us. Not quite uncomfortable, but there. My brain scrambles to latch onto the right words. I definitely want to have sex with Winnie. But I don't want her to feel pressured because I've already had sex. I don't expect it. I'm okay without it. I like how things are, and any way I can be with her is great.

"I guess, oh my gosh," she mutters, her face flaming pink and her fingers gripping the wheel so hard they turn white. "This is so embarrassing. Okay." She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. "I guess I'm trying to say I'm open to having sex. With you. I'm not not interested. Just inexperienced."

My blood rushes out of my head, and I shift in my seat. "I'm not experienced in being in a relationship. Just because I've had sex doesn't make me an expert, anyway. I guess what I'm saying is, when we're ready, we'll be equal partners. Like everything else, right?"

She exhales, relieved. "Right. Good. I like that."

"Me, too."

Winnie pulls into a gas station before she leans over and kisses me.

"What's that for?"

She smiles, taking off her seat belt. "Does there need to be a reason?"

After stopping to check into our hotel room, which turns into a detour for more kissing (some of which is on a very conveniently placed bed), we make it to the concert with minutes to spare. The venue is more crowded than I would have ever guessed, though we are the youngest people by at least a decade. Winnie forces me to buy two Whitesnake T-shirts we immediately put over our clothes. Apparently, of the hours and hours of songs we listened to this morning and afternoon, "Here I Go Again" is Winnie's new-old favorite song. She's also forced me to watch the music video twice. I'm not sure I understand how the lady dancing on the hoods of the cars fits with the lyrics, but I can appreciate the enthusiasm. I've already offered for Winnie to reenact on my Navigator whenever she wants.

Though I was raised on neon lights and loud crowds, this is another level. Screaming guitars, fried vocals, heavy bass you can feel in your bones. I have the time of my life. Winnie bangs her head and sings along to as many lyrics as she can, and I can't take my eyes off her. She's so light without responsibility weighing down her shoulders. The familiar piano chords of Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" come on, and she screams. Straight up screams, jumping up and down.

That's when I start to lose it a little. Because she's so beautiful and fun, and I have this automatic thought like, Walker would be wild for her and this entire night, and I'm suddenly imagining how it would have been with the two of them, screaming along to Journey together and making fun of me for being boring and not knowing the lyrics. He'd have a matching T-shirt and would crash on the floor of our hotel room, happily cramping my style and—

And—he's not. He won't ever be here. For the rest of my life, I will want to show him things and experience things with him, and I can't.

I don't cry this time. For once, knowing all of this doesn't ruin my night. It hurts, but the pain doesn't suck me under the way it used to. Whether that is due to the passing of time or the girl singing her heart out next to me or something else, I don't know.

All I know is by the end of the song, I'm singing along to the chorus and losing myself in the crowd just like everyone else and I think for a second I can see my best friend there, on the periphery, fist in the air, hair flopping around, smile splitting across his face. I feel him next to us, and it's enough.

Winnie is quiet in the hotel elevator after the show.

"Tired?" I ask.

She nods, pressing against me. "Long day. Long drive. But mostly just feeling extra quiet. Everything was so loud at the venue."

"Did you have fun?"

"I did," she says, looking up at me. "You?"

I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for an embrace and kissing the top of her head. "I did. Thanks for kidnapping me."

She snorts against my collarbone as the elevator dings on our floor.

We walk down the hall to our room, fingers tangled together, and Winnie pulls out the key card, opening the door. She leads me inside, closing the door before spinning us and pressing me up against the cold metal, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss.

I open my mouth immediately, inviting her taste, and a groan burns in the back of my throat as she bucks gently against me, covering me in her softness and stoking a fire in my blood. I force myself to step back, putting space between us.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Okay," she pants, and I feel a flash of pride at the way her blush starts at her collarbone and rises to her cheeks.

"But for the record," I say before chickening out, "I want to do everything if and when you want to do everything."

She tilts her head, coy. "What if I want to do everything right now?"

My blood rushes south, my head spinning slightly.

"You do?" I cough, trying to cover for the high pitch to my voice. And try again. "You do?"

Her lips spread into a shy smile. "Uh-huh."

"Right now?" I clarify.

"Yes, please."

"You'll let me know if you change your mind. You can change your mind at any time and—"

She cuts me off with another long kiss, only pulling away after I've forgotten what I was even talking about in the first place.

"I won't change my mind," she tells me. "Unflinching, remember?"

I take her hands in both of mine, walking us slowly backward toward the bed, kissing her over and over until my legs hit the edge of the mattress and she falls over on top of me. I decide right then and there I could spend the rest of my life like this and be happy about it. There's no place I'd rather be.

I wake up smothered in dark hair that smells like the best moment of my entire life, listening to my girlfriend snore. For a few minutes, I consider staying under the covers and watching her sleep, but that feels creepy, so instead, I roll out of bed and head for the shower. By the time I'm clean and dressed, Winnie's awake and propped against the headboard, sipping from a paper cup.

"Coffee?"

She winces. "And powdered creamer. Which should not be a real thing."

I cross over to her side of the bed and sit on the edge, reaching for her drink.

Before I steal a sip, I exhale and ask, "No regrets?"

She tilts her head, her smile reassuring. "None. You?"

"Of course not. I wanted to double-check because…"

This time, Winnie rolls her eyes and reaches to take the cup back. "That was my first time?"

I feel my face burn, and I clear my throat. "Yes. That."

She takes a lingering sip, thinking. She swallows slowly and puts her cup on the nightstand before reaching for my hand. "I was going to give you shit, but I realized I can't in this instance. Case, you were perfect. You were sweet and gentle. No regrets," she reiterates. "I'm glad it was you, and I can't wait to do it again."

I tug on the hand she's wrapped around mine and lean close to capture her lips. "Well, in that case…"