We put on our outfits. Sloan’s needed some altering. We borrowed scissors from the thrift store and cut the feet off so she could wear her shoes. She said it was hot, so we cut the arms off too.

“There,” she said, unzipping the front and pushing her boobs up, the crooked horn on her hood bouncing. “Sexy unicorn.”

I looked at her through the plastic fingers of my new sunglasses. “Are you satisfied with yourself? Look what you’ve done to us.”

“I am satisfied, thank you.” She cocked her head at me triumphantly.

“You’re nuts, you know that, right?”

“You’re nuts too.” She slipped her hands around my waist and hugged me, looking up at me with her chin to my chest. “Oh! We have to take a picture and send it to your mom.”

We took a few funny selfies and shot them over. I loved that she and Mom had hit it off. I loved it so much.

We walked toward the palm-lined Third Street Promenade, holding hands as the sun went down. We elicited a lot fewer looks than we would have in Ely dressed like this. We almost went unnoticed, actually. I was grateful for the glasses. I’d brought a hat and some sunglasses so I wouldn’t get recognized. I was doing a lot of appearances now, and more often than not these days, someone somewhere would know who I was. Santa Monica was touristy. The last thing I wanted was to end up signing autographs while out with Sloan. But I think the cape and the finger glasses did a better job of concealing my identity than my original plan. Nobody expected a taco cape–wearing Jaxon Waters.

Sloan stood at a shop window looking at a mannequin and I came up behind her and wrapped my cape around her. “Hey. I want to talk to you about something.” I put a kiss on the side of her head and she smiled at me in the reflection in the glass.

“I was wondering where you wanted to spend my five-week break. We can be here the whole time if you want, but I know Mom would like it if we came for Thanksgiving.”

I watched her smile melt.

She turned to face me. “Jason…”

Her voice was apologetic. My heart sank.

“Jason, I think we need to be realistic,” she said gently. “You’re going to be gone over a year. You’ll be on the road the whole time, in different time zones—”

“Wait…” I blinked at her, not believing what I was hearing. “You want to break up?”

Her eyes went soft. “I don’t want to break up. But I don’t see how it’s going to work either.”

I shook my head. “Sloan, we’ve done it before.”

“For two weeks. When you were opening. But you’ll be headlining. You’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to think about me, let alone call me. Sometimes even back then you couldn’t find time to call me.”

I took off my stupid finger glasses and took a step closer to her. “We’re not breaking up,” I said. “No.”

“Jason,” she said softly. “I don’t want what we have to be buried. I don’t want to struggle to remember good days like this one.”

I put my hands on her arms. “We won’t. We’ll have plenty of good days. We’ll Skype, and I’ll call you. I’ll come visit you whenever I can. It’ll be hard, but we just have to put in the effort.” I shook my head. “Sloan, what did you think we were doing here? Did you just think this was some fling for me?”

“Of course not. That’s not what it is for me either.” She licked her lips. “But your circumstances have changed and, Jason, I know what this looks like. My dad worked overseas when I was growing up. It destroyed my parents’ marriage. First we’ll go a day without talking. Then two. Then a week. Then you won’t even be able to remember the last time we spoke because not talking to each other is the new normal. And I know myself, Jason. I’ll be a mess the whole time. You won’t like who I’ll become. I’ll be paranoid because I won’t know what you’re doing and resentful that you’re not making time for me, and you’ll get frustrated that I want your attention when you’re spread so thin. We won’t know each other anymore, and we’ll both be lonely, even though we’re together.” She put her hands on my chest and looked up at me, her beautiful brown eyes sad. “Jason, I spent so much time being lonely and unhappy. And I just can’t do it again. I can’t go from this to that. I can’t. I won’t.”

The moment where I should have said, “Then come with me on tour” hung between us and then passed. Lola made it so I had no choice but to let it pass.

“Sloan, don’t do this,” I said, my eyes begging her. “Please.”

I studied her face. The determined set of her jaw, her steady eyes holding mine. Her mind was made up—and the worst part was I knew she was right.

It was one thing for me to want to stick it out. I wasn’t happy about the way things would be long distance either, but I’d do it because the alternative was knowing she was out there without me, dating other people. And it was my fault it was happening because it was my job separating us.

But it wasn’t fair to ask her to deal with this shitty situation. She’d been so miserable for so long I didn’t even want her to have to deal with it. I wanted her to be happy.

I’d just hoped that being with me would be the way for her to do that.