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“Sunrises are more um…” Beckett sighs. “I forgot the word. But I prefer them over sunsets. We should watch one of those, too.”

Headache. Nausea. Forgetfulness.

I got hit by a car in third grade while walking to school and ended up with a concussion. Those were my exact issues.

Good to know my instincts are always right.

Or maybe it’s because we’ve been awake for thirty-eight hours.

I hate that both are possible.

“Hey.” He shakes my knee. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, I don’t know.

Everything.

Four different thoughts collide at the same time, and I have zero idea where to start. But I open my mouth, and the only thing that comes out is:

“I’d choose you too. Every time.”

My mouth’s still running, even though my face is hot and my brain is spinning on hamster wheels. “If I had a—a crystal ball that could see the future, I wouldn’t change anything, you know? The Polaroids, the parties, the people—even Dave. Because that’s how I got you.”

He goes quiet again, and I glance over to see if he fell asleep.

Nope.

Beckett’s staring at me so hard that goosebumps skitter down my bare legs. His jaw is clenched, and his eyebrows are knitted together as if he’s trying to find the answer to a test.

Sheesh.

Say something, why don’t you.

I just spilled my heart out. That’s fucking embarrassing.

Then he looks away from me and picks at the torn strap on his cargo pants, his chin tilted down to his chest until I can’t see his face anymore. I don’t know if he’s freaked, or regretting everything, or wanting to chuck me out the windshield.

Part of me wants to step into traffic.

Instead, I throw my legs up on the dashboard and watch the cotton candy clouds turn into muddy blue nighttime soup.

“Every time?” he finally asks.

“Yep. Every day that ends in Y.”

After another second, I hear him snort out a laugh.

“God,” he says, chuckling. “I literally had to go through all the days in order.”

“Cause it feels like someone’s taking an axe to the inside of your skull?” I mumble.

“My headache went away after I ate.”

One raindrop splatters the windshield.

Then two.

I pull my legs back to the plastic floor mat and stick my head out the open passenger window, watching the wall of rain travel across the parking lot faster than hell. Jerking my head back inside, I crank the window closed just in time.