I guess I just got lost

Being someone else.

I tried to kill the pain,

But nothing ever helped.

I left myself behind,

Somewhere along the way

Hoping to come back around

To find myself someday

Let Me Be Myself, 3 Doors Down

Z

The hot breeze off the ocean carried the smell of salt. My villa was just close enough to the town that I thought I could hear the sound of voices and laughter carrying in with the wind, but the crash of every wave hitting the shore drowned it out. The sounds and the smells of the new place were lulling me to sleep where I sat stretched out on the beach chair.

My eyelids were heavy and I was warm and comfortable, but I knew there was something important I needed to before I went to sleep. I picked up my phone and dialed Brian's number.

"Where are you?" He answered on the third ring without a greeting.

"In Mexico," I answered.

"Mexico?" I was about to tell him the town, but his outburst cut me off. He did not sound happy at all.

"I'm fine, Brian. Really, truly fine." I told my friend, trying to soothe his worry. I knew it wouldn't help.

"Are you sure? Because this isn't what people that are fine do!" I felt the frustration in his voice.

"I found a cheap deal on a nice villa and cheap flights. The prices went up after that day, and I had the money and the time to go, so I did. I'm so glad I did it, Brian. I was tired of being trapped in my apartment. I was too afraid of the media circus going on to really get out. I felt like they were about to blast my picture all over the news and ruin my career of undercover work before it started."

I was pleading with him to trust me. I hadn't thought about scaring him and Lisa, but apparently that was exactly what had ended up happened.

"Don't you think you should have talked to someone about feeling like that?" The exasperation sunk into his voice.

"I mean, no." I lied. I had thought about telling them so many times, but I couldn't find it in myself to drop that facade. They would have helped me. They would have been there for me, but I shoved them away. "I needed to get out of LA. I've been wanting to go on a vacation for a long time, and I had three months off. I took the first month to do all my paperwork, but I'm taking the second two for me."

"You've been in LA for four months and you needed a vacation!" Brian roared incredulously.

"Five and I hated it." I corrected. "I need this time for me. I'm going to come back a better person from this. I've never stepped out of my box, stepped out of my plan, and I need to do this."

Brian was silent on the other end. He finally sighed.

"Where in Mexico?"

"Sayulita. Smaller surfing town. It's so beautiful. It's safe too."

Not for the first time talking to Brian, I felt insanely guilty. I should have told him about this impromptu run for the border long before now. I probably should have called him before Penning. I also should have been a little more gracious about accepting help, but sitting around talking about it didn't fix anything.

Or maybe it could. Treat them like they're people.

"Look, I know I don't talk about things, but I really struggled when I was young, and I didn't have anyone to turn to and I didn't have one I could trust and I was all alone and-" I trailed off, biting my lip. Opening up was hard. "I felt helpless all of the time. Like there was nothing I could do to control anything, so I went the other way, where I tried to control everything."

I waited to see if Brian was going to try to say something, but he kept silent. I knew I needed to keep talking. It was too late to stop now. Brian had been telling me I had to open up to actually make relationships work, and apparently now was the time.

"When this happened, and I couldn't remember anything for a while, I panicked and went right back to being helpless and I kind of spiraled. I feel like I shut down and all of that anxiety came back and I couldn't control it anymore, so I did something that I could control. I took a step back."

"You don't think you could have told us this in LA? Did you think we wouldn't understand?" His voice wasn't harsh and the questions were gentle. I felt the tears spring up to my eyes.

"Like in my head, I know you would have understood, but I couldn't handle it. So I got on a plane to Mexico. I realize it's not an effective coping mechanism for most people, but right now it's helping so much. I can focus on getting past this." I paused a beat. "I'm sorry, Brian. I owe you and Lisa an apology. I know I do, but I also know I need to do this. I'm going to break if I don't."

He let out a humorless little laugh. "We've talked about this a bunch."

"We have, and now I believe you. I've wanted to have this job for so long, and now I have it and I hate almost every second of it. I don't think my dream was the wrong thing, I just think I lost myself trying to chase it. You were right. You're always right."

"I just don't know what to do with this." He finally answered. Apparently me showing feelings was a little much for Brian right now.

"No one does. No one is ever prepared for me and there will never be another like me." I tried to push the confident facade up, but it was shattered now and we both knew it.

"You have to check-in. Daily." He went back to dad Brian.

"Every day. You're going to be so jealous when you hear about the fun I'm having." I told him as the tears started to fall.

"I'll take care of your car and your apartment for you. I'll have that Maverick running as good as new when you come back." He promised.

"Thank you. I'll see you when I get back." He huffed.

"Bye, Anna. Don't do anything stupid."

"Bye. I'll call tomorrow." He hung up.

Of course, Brian would understand. Didn't he do this himself when he handed Toretto the keys and headed off to Miami?

I laid listening to the waves hitting the sand. Now I was sure I could hear the sounds of a distant beach party getting louder in between the sound of the waves. After that call, I was wide awake. I felt restless deep in my bones.

Determined to spend my first night in Sayulita doing something other than feeling sorry for myself, I pried myself up off the beach chair. Time to get dressed.

I wasn't here for self-pity. I was here to break myself out of the box I'd shoved myself in. I wasn't a cop trying to claw my way up the ladder tonight; I was someone young and with some other passion in life that wasn't work. I was going to go out on that town and raise absolute hell tonight. I'd been too prim and proper and under control for so long; now was my chance to let loose before I went back to being a stiff, suit-wearing cop.

Z

The bar was crowded when I got there. The party had spilled out into a courtyard lit by string lights and a few lanterns. The music was lively, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the laughter of the patrons. I felt my mood lift as soon as I stepped into the crowd. The energy of the place fed into my tired body and I found myself smiling by the time I made it to the bar.

"Can I get a margarita on the rocks?" I asked in heavily accented Spanish. I'd been practicing even before this trip, but I was still bad.

A rapid string of words came out of the bartender's mouth in response. When I looked confused, the man laughed.

"Salt on the rim?" He clarified. I found myself laughing as I nodded. "Good for you for at least trying."

"Thanks. I'm hoping I'll get better soon." I replied as I took the offered drink and slid him some money. He winked at me before moving on to the next person.

I started sipping as I moved through the crowds. I was hoping I would hear a little English being spoken, but it had seemed I wandered into a local bar by mistake. I had hoped I would meet some nice ex-pats or a group on vacation to do things with. It was a stupid thought, but I wasn't sure I could handle being completely on my own for the whole two months. Starting to feel self-conscious for the first time, I started wandering around looking for a table or an empty chair.

When I didn't find one, I was about to down my drink and leave to find a more spring breakish club when I finally heard something being said in English. Not wanting to seem creepy to the group sitting on at a table, I found a spot on the wall nearby and downed my drink. Normally I'd strut my way into their circle and introduce myself, but I was having trouble finding my courage. I was hoping a little liquid courage would help.

The man facing away from me was bald, but the man facing me had a thick head of long dark hair spilling onto his collar, but gelled on the sides. I was glancing around to see if there was any other group I could try to buddy up to when the man looked up and caught my eye.

He was nice looking, Asian, about my age. A smirk hit his full lips the second we made eye contact and I felt a blush creeping up my face as I returned it with a smile. He broke eye contact to look at his companion and I took that opportunity to take a few deep breaths.

It had been a while since I'd flirted with anyone. The closest I'd been to a guy in months was when I kept waking up tangled with Brian in that honeymoon suite bed, but that hardly counted. Right? It didn't count when you were asleep.

"I'm going to grab another drink, Dom." The Asian man told his companion.

Wait, what? I thought as he stood up.

The bald man turned his head to see exactly where his friend was going, and light lit up his profile. There was no mistaking it: I had wandered into the same Mexican bar as Dominic Toretto.

And most worrisome of all, his friend was heading directly towards me.