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?

My helplessness makes me feel embarrassed and foolish. It also fuels my anger. My resentment continues to simmer and seethe. I don't hold back when these toxic emotions boil over, spilling out of my mouth like venom, "I fucking hate them."

Wide-eyed, Cruz looks taken aback by my sudden outburst. "Who are you talking about, Athena?"

"My dad. Your dad."

"Don't waste your energy on them. They're not worth it."

I snap in frustration, "Easier said than done."

Cruz side-eyes me while driving. "You know—"

"What?"

His gaze darts back to the road. "You have every right to be mad."

Still stewing and raging, I grumble, "I'm glad we agree on something."

He winces. "Unfortunately, how you feel won't change the fact that our dads will continue to be assholes."

I glare at him. "Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"Not really," Cruz replies without missing a beat, "but it's probably what you need to hear right now."

I scowl deeply, not knowing whether or not I agree with his statement. "Maybe I don't wanna hear it."

Cruz grimaces. "Well, I'm gonna say it, anyway. If our dads loved us, they would've never put us in this horrible position."

"No shit."

"Everything leading up to this point is proof that they'll always put themselves before us."

The truth stings. It's acid on an open wound. Taking in a deep breath, I try not to spiral. "Doesn't it piss you off?"

"Of course it does," admits Cruz, "I'm pissed as hell. However, if I've learned anything from dealing with my dad's mood swings these past few years, it's that everything he does is out of my control."

"Your dad really has shit for brains."

He takes a pause before pressing on, "After he tried to attack me this morning, I realized something."

My attention shifts entirely onto Cruz. Listening intently, I say, "I'm all ears."

"I realized that I'm not a kid anymore. I'm finally bigger than him. Stronger, too. I don't have to let him control me anymore."

"Were you scared of him... before?"

"A little, yeah." He hesitates again. "A lot, actually."

My eyes round out. "Oh, baby..."

He mumbles, "It's ridiculous, right?"

I argue fiercely, "Not at all! Your dad fucked everything up, Cruz. He stole your childhood. That's on him, not you, and now that you're strong enough to fight back, he can never take anything away from you again."

He smiles faintly. "Guess it's safe to say that my dad sucks. Your dad sucks, too. So, really, you and I really haven't lost much because we never had much in the first place. If anything, we have a chance to be free of those fuckers now. It's their loss and our gain."

My fury cools by a fraction. I find myself agreeing with Cruz, "That's true. I guess... perspective is everything."

Determination sets on Cruz's face as his fingers tighten over the steering wheel. "I don't think we have a choice, baby. You and I have to see our situation from this perspective if we wanna move forward."

Now it's my turn to take a pause. Cruz has a valid point. This whole situation is all about mind over matter. I can't let our circumstances defeat me before we even try to find a solution. But I feel defeated, nonetheless.

Cruz casts a look of worry in my direction. "Athena?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

I slump into my seat with a sigh. In distracted tones, I struggle to put my thoughts into words, "In the past..."

Cruz doesn't rush me. He waits for me to find my words.

"I thought I was pretty mature for my age. I believed I was ready to take on the world and adopt Persie."

"You don't feel that way anymore?"

I shake my head. "I feel like a kid who's not ready to grow up. I'm scared, Cruz. I'm really, really scared."

Cruz reaches for my hand, guides it to his lips, and presses a gentle kiss into my palm. "I'm scared, too, but every time I look at you, it makes me wanna fight harder to get what we deserve. Because you deserve the whole fucking world, Athena. You really do."

I turn to him with glistening eyes. "You are my world, Cruz. I may be scared out of my fucking mind, but, as long as I have you, I promise I won't give up."

Cruz releases my hand and falls silent for a moment.

My brow furrows. "What's wrong, baby?"

He swallows. Hard. "I..."

"What?" I urge, feeling a little anxious.

Cruz's green eyes dart toward me as a faint smile appears across his mouth. "I love you, Athena."

I drop my jaw in shock. His confession drifts over me like a blissful cloud, embracing me in warmth and light. My heart feels so full that it could burst. Right away, I get the urge to tell him how I feel as well.

I lean over and plant a kiss on his shoulder, whispering, "I love you, too, Cruz."

Those five little words make his entire face light up like a Christmas tree, and it's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. Our gazes find one another, almost shyly, for one special moment before he turns his attention back to driving. There's nothing grand or super romantic about this first exchange of ILY's, but everything between us feels different, somehow, in a very big way. Love envelopes Cruz and me like a protective shield, chasing away all of the anguish and upsets from today.

We don't say much else for the rest of the drive, but I feel more connected to Cruz than ever. He steers with his left hand on the wheel while resting his right hand on my thigh. I play with his fingers and trace little hearts across his palm. The radio plays in the background. Arctic Monkeys and Portishead fill the silence. The music soothes my restlessness. Around noon, we stop for a quick bite at McDonald's.

It takes another hour on the I-17 before we reach our motel in Flagstaff. We arrive around 3:00 pm. Like two ants moving house, Cruz and I manage to haul everything from the car to our room in just one trip.

Once we set down our bags, I flop onto the mattress in exhaustion. Cruz soon joins me. The mattress sinks under his weight. We're magnets drawn together. I turn toward him as he pulls me into his arms.

"It has been quite a day, huh?" he muses softly.

I bury my face into his chest and groan, "It has been wild."

"Are you still feeling shitty?"

"Kinda," I reply, "but I have something that might make today a little less shitty."

Cruz's voice grows husky as his hand starts sliding under my shirt. "I know what will cheer me up..."

Playfully, I bat his hand away. "Not so fast, buddy."

His face falls with disappointment. "You're no fun."

I giggle at his grumbling and roll away to grab the brand-new laptop that's hidden in my duffel bag. I wasn't able to gift wrap it, so I try my best to hide it behind my back, but Cruz catches an eyeful of the package as I return to bed.

"What's that?" he asks.

"A gift," I answer with a knowing smirk.

Cruz blinks. "For who?"

"For you, dummy."

He looks very surprised and beyond pleased. "No way, it's not even my birthday or anything! What did you get me?"

"Open it."

Eagerly, Cruz rips open the cardboard. His eyes flicker with an unreadable emotion when he sees the laptop inside. "Shit, Athena..."

I bite my lower lip. "Your dad broke your old one, so I thought..."

He frowns. "I can't accept your gift."

My face falls. "You don't like it?"

"No, no," Cruz insists, "I fucking love it! I fucking love you! But I don't want you to spend this much money on me, okay? You need to save up for yourself and your sister."

I plead, "I want you to have it, though. Please."

Gently, he chides, "When we get our shit settled, I'll let you spoil me rotten. For now, though, we gotta be smart with money. I know how you feel about me, and that's fucking priceless."

Tears well up in my eyes. Cruz is too much for me. Too perfect. I don't know how it's possible to love him even more, but I do. I love him so much. "Dude, why do you always have such a good guy?"

He smiles sheepishly. "It's kinda annoying, huh?"

With a watery gaze, I lean forward to kiss him. "Super annoying."

His hands move up to cradle my face, pulling me closer to deepen our kiss. Our lips lock. Our tongues dance. His closeness makes me swoon. Soon, the laptop is forgotten. We tumble backward onto the mattress together. Cruz attempts to slide his hand beneath my shirt again, and, this time, I don't stop him. His thumb slips under my bra to tease my nipple, caressing and flicking until it tightens with pleasure into a hard, little berry. I start tugging at his shirt. He takes it off, revealing his broad, muscled chest and chiseled abs. His pants are the next to go. I remove my shirt and jeans as well.

My eyes are immediately drawn to Cruz's gray boxer briefs. There's a massive tent near his crotch. He climbs over me, settling between my legs. His hardon brushes against my thighs. My sex. I shiver with anticipation and slide my hands over his shoulders, pulling him back into my arms. His skin feels feverishly hot against mine. I start rubbing myself against him. My tits across his chest. My clit against his cock. Even between the barrier of my bra and underwear, the friction feels so fucking good. I don't ever want to stop.

Moaning breathlessly, I ask, "Did you, um, bring any condoms?"

He dips down to nuzzle my neck, murmuring against my skin, "Of course."

"Good," I whisper, "because I think we'll need them."