After leaving Seabrook that day I hoped Fin would give Noah my message, and that he would find a way to write to me. The car ride home was silent, my father’s usual humming replaced by the sound of tires running over loose gravel. His warm smile that usually met mine as we harmonized to songs we had danced to when I was a child disappeared, and each time he glanced back at me from his rearview mirror I sank farther down in my seat. Neither one of us spoke a word, my mother’s lips pursed until the next time we stopped for gas and she had to ask me if I needed to use the restroom; a question in which I always replied no to. With nothing but the scenery to distract me, I was left with the constant goodbye I had told Fin to tell you, the words running over and over in my head, as if they were a broken record. After the fight we had the previous night, I was hoping to see you face to face the next morning. As I saw you pull away that night, my head was rushing a mile a minute, and yet, as hurt and angry as I was, all I wanted was for you to come back. I wanted your mouth against mine the way it had been earlier that night as we laid on the floor of that broken down house you planned to own, trembling with excitement and fear at the same time. Closing my eyes, I laid my head against the back seat, trying my best to remember all of the good before it had suddenly turned to bad. With the silence of my two parents, I began to fall asleep, the seat belt pressing into my neck the only thing that reminded me of reality.