Five years later

"Hey, Bailey," Meg said, walking into Bailey's bedroom. "What's up? You sounded really upset."

Bailey looked up from her laptop, a frown creasing her forehead. "Remember my blog from back in high school?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "You mean the one that almost killed our friendship?"

Bailey sighed. "Yeah. That's the one. I promise, I haven't touched it in years...not since you and Chase got together. I kind of forgot about it. I don't know why I did, but I decided to check it. Take a look."

Bailey slid her laptop around so Meg could see all the comments that had piled up over the years. It had been five years since she and Meg had nearly obliterated their friendship over Simon – well, Ryder, if she were going to be technical about it. So much had happened since then. They'd graduated high school. They'd just graduated from their respective colleges. Meg was now the proud owner of a Cooper Union art degree and Bailey had a shiny Bachelor of Science sitting in a vinyl case on her desk.

Bailey still couldn't believe it. Bailey Grant, with a science degree? It had been hard work, work she never thought she could do. But she had. She knew how to code in several languages. She understood concepts like flow, feedback loops, randomness and intentionality, and emergence. Best of all, she'd done all her own work on her game – the game she now called Anachron-- for her senior project. Simon had been play-testing the prototype with her for weeks now.

"Wow," Meg said. "These are...harsh."

"Terrible? God, that's so direct! I know I was selfish and insecure and just pain mean back then. But you forgave me, Meg. Why can't they?"

Meg sighed. "I don't know, Bay."

"Look at this one."

"Bailey, you're a great friend."

But Bailey wasn't convinced. "Why do people feel like they have the right to judge like this? I mean, I'm still going to therapy. I don't know everything but I am figuring stuff out, just like everybody else."

Meg sighed and read more comments. 

"We were all stupid. And you know what? I bet everybody in the world has been stupid, too."

Bailey managed a weak smile and read the next comment from Emisnotofire123.

"Bailey, here's my advice. You don't know these people and they only think they know you but they don't – not the way I do, or Simon does, or even Patty does."

"Patty?"

"Yeah. Patty. The author."

"Oh. Right. Her." Bailey rolled her eyes.

Meg laughed. "Come on, Bay. We all love you. That's enough, right?"

"I guess so." Bailey nibbled a nail and gave Meg a worried look. "Meg, can I ask you something?"

Meg shifted closer, putting an arm around Bailey. All these comments had obviously messed her up. Some were pretty funny but a lot more were just mean. Didn't people understand that the stuff they posted online didn't just get thrown into the vacuum of space? That a person, a real person with feelings, is reading them?

"Meg, do you still think I'm stupid?"

Meg bit her lip. "No, Bailey. I know you're not stupid. I always knew that. I think that's why I was so angry at you back then. You pretended to be stupid because you were afraid of so many things. Afraid you weren't good enough. Afraid you weren't smart enough. But you are good enough and you are smart." Meg waved a hand over Bailey's other computer, the big one on her desk with two monitors and an assortment of odd strings of text scrawled on Post-It notes stuck to the edge. "Like what on earth is this?" Meg picked one off and read it out loud. "[Life N] should be 1 at level 1, not 0, and then n+5 for every [time incr]."

"Oh," Bailey said, taking the scrap of paper. "That's just a reminder to fix the way the characters' health is tracked in the game system."

"Yeah, so I am pretty sure you just spoke English, but I didn't understand a word of that, not to mention why it's written inside brackets."

"Those are variables that get declared at the launch of a new game."

Meg nodded slowly. "Ri-i-i-ght. Definitely not stupid, Bailey."

Bailey smiled and nodded, sending all those blond curls bouncing. "I used to be. I almost threw all of this away because I thought it was too hard."

Meg's dark eyes snapped to hers. "I did the same thing, remember? I almost threw away Chase. And I almost turned down art as any sort of career because I thought jobs had to be these steady, nine-to-five, office things."

Bailey rested her head on Meg's shoulder. "Thanks for not giving up on me, Meg."

She laughed and gave her a squeeze. "Back atcha, Bay." Meg patted her shoulder and said, "Now, come on. Enough moping. Tell me about your job interview."

Bailey's smile lit up the small room. "It's for a machinima tech."

"A what?"

"Machinima. A digital videographer. I think it went really well. I worked with a few of the tools they use in school, so that's a plus. And they liked the sample work I showed them."

Meg looked confused. "But that doesn't sound like game design."

"Oh, it's not. It's post-production editing, but Uncle Josh think it'll be a great way to get experience. I'd get to work with the designers, coders, writers, and testers to take a game concept to completion. That's always been my biggest challenge with my own game."

Meg nodded, impressed. "When will you find out?"

Bailey pressed the sticky note back on the monitor and lifted a shoulder. "They said they liked me a lot and would let me know early next week. Meg, I have a really good feeling about this. It's right in the city, plus I can work from home sometimes."

Meg's eyes lit up. "Where in the city? Maybe we could have lunch together?"

Bailey didn't reply. Instead, she gasped and bounced and when she grabbed her laptop back, Meg knew she'd just had an idea.

She tapped a few keys and then showed Meg a website. "I have the most incredible idea."

Meg grinned and then read the screen Bailey pulled up. "Job listings? Bay, I don't know anything about video games."

"You know art, Meg. You know all about character design, color, animation, and facial expressions. I remember how hard you worked on Chase's eyes. I know you studied the big software tools in school because you asked me about Photoshop and 3DStudio Max. You could totally do this job."

Meg studied the Character Artist's job description and felt a tingle go down her back. It wasn't the museum restoration job she'd dreamed about. And she didn't have nearly the experience the job required. It was a risk. A gamble. But Bailey taught her that plans were kind of meaningless if they were too rigid to flex. Slowly, she smiled and nodded. "Okay. Okay, Bailey, I'll apply."

"Yay!" Bailey clapped her hands. "Where's your resume? You can do it right now." Bailey clicked a link and Meg directed her to the job search website where she'd created her profile. Two minutes later, the computer confirmed it: Meg had just submitted an application to one of the top video game companies in the country.

Bailey powered down the laptop and sighed happily. "I think it would be amazing if we both got these jobs."

Meg had to admit it; she thought so, too.

"So how are your mom and Josh doing?"

Bailey glanced at the door and then leaned in close, eyes sparkling. "He's gonna propose."

"What?" Meg shrieked, clapping both hands to her mouth.

"Shhh! Nobody else knows."

"Except you?"

"Well, my grandparents know, too. Uncle Josh asked for her hand," she admitted, putting both hands over her mouth.

Meg knew Bailedy was thrilled at the idea of her uncle marrying her mother. "When Uncle Josh called and insisted I come meet him, I figured something was up, but he wouldn't tell me why until I got there. Turned out, it was to help him buy the ring." She let out a little squeal. "Oh, Meg, you have to see it. It's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen."

"And you didn't say a word to me? Bailey!"

"I know, I know! But I was sworn to complete secrecy. Since he's asking her tonight, I think it's okay to share."

Meg grabbed one of Bailey's stuffed animals and hugged it to her chest. "So... do you think she'll say yes?"

Bailey was nodding before Meg finished the question. "Absolutely. She's crazy about him. It's been such a long time, you know? It's great to see her happy again. I don't think I've ever seen Nicole actually happy." And then the light faded from Bailey's eyes. "She was so mad at me for... that whole looking for my dad thing. She never wanted me to know my dad didn't want me – either of us."

A pang of pain speared through Meg's heart at those words. She understood that pain all too well.

"Uncle Josh showing up at our door turned out to be the best thing that could have happened."

Meg remembered that night. Bailey, hysterical, had pounded on Meg's door late that night, waking her up out of a sound sleep, babbling about Josh showing up to confront Nicole, demand an apology for keeping Bailey's existence a secret. Her grandparents were furious, Uncle Josh was upset, Nicole was crying – it had all been too much for Bailey so she turned to the only person she knew would completely get it. Meg.

"It took ages, but I'm so glad they got it all worked out and now, everybody's happy. It's weird to have this entire other set of grandparents, this entire family I never knew about."

Meg nodded even though she couldn't imagine it at all. It had always been just her and Pauline, ever since her dad died.

"Bailey!" Gran called up the stairs. "The boys are here!"

"Okay!" She called back. She and Meg headed downstairs. Simon and Chase waited just inside the front door. She glanced at Meg's face and yep, there it was. After five years together, Meg still flashed that Chase-smile.

She watched Meg walk straight into Chase's open arms, kiss him right on the lips. "Everything okay at home?"

Chase nodded. "Yeah. Molly wants you to see her school backpack. She's a little pissed off you didn't come over."

Meg blinked. "But it's July."

"You are such an only child." Chase shook his head with a laugh. "She's six and a half and it's brand new. Right now, it's her entire world. But it's okay. I smoothed things over." He stuffed a hand in the pocket of his jeans, pulled out a package of M&Ms. "I got these for you, but gave her some. She's happy. For now."

Meg took the half-empty package of candy and laughed.

"Bay."

Bailey turned her gaze to Simon. He held out his hand and she took it. Slowly, he grinned and she wondered why. "What are you smiling at?"

"You," he replied, tucking a curl behind her ear. "You have your goofy grin on...the one you save just for me."

Bailey's jaw dropped. "Just for you?"

"Yeah. You bite your bottom lip and smile at the same time. I, um, kind of love it."

Bailey never knew she did that. It made her warm and gooey inside to know she had a Simon-smile.

"You ready to go?" Simon asked.

Bailey bounced on her toes. "Where are we going?"

To Bailey's complete shock, Simon exchanged a look with Meg. "Um, well, Meg and I thought it might be fun to hit the county fair. They're having fireworks tonight, too."

Bailey's heart swelled. "I love that you guys don't hate each other anymore."

"Oh, God," Chase groaned.

Meg looked at her feet. "I never hated him. I just wanted to make sure—" She trailed off, lifted her head and said, "You know what? It doesn't matter. He makes you happy."

Bailey looked into Simon's eyes and smiled. "He does. He really, really does."

As they called out goodbyes to Gran and climbed into Simon's car, Meg thought about all they'd done, all they'd endured, to reach this point. All the secrets, the lies, the misunderstandings and the mistakes. And then she thought about all the other things...the shared meals, the shoulders to cry on, the laughs, the dreams and yeah, even the plans. Yeah, mistakes were made – lots of them, on all sides. But, Meg thought as Bailey pulled out her phone to read a text message, it all came down to one thing – owning those mistakes, apologizing for them and moving forward – that's what mattered.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" Bailey squealed and showed Meg the message. It was from Josh.

She said yes. I'm so proud to be your uncle AND your dad.

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Notefrom Patty: I hope y'all enjoyedcatching up with Bailey, Meg, and Chase in this free TMI short story. I have anew novel coming out this summer called THE WAY IT HURTS. Here's the booktrailer video: 

https://youtu.be/mNzdkURKdD4

I hope you like it. Follow me online for chances to win awesome prizes, free stories, and exclusive sneak peeks.

What's it about? THE WAY IT HURTS is about Elijah and Kristen, two teens who'd do anything for fame. He's got a rock ban and she's a theater geek. When a single tweet makes them famous, they hope to ride the wave for as long as they can. They never expected it to go viral...

Here's a sneak peek from the scene when Elijah hears Kristen for the first time.

darkness hummed and the audience held its breath. A circle of light found the figure on the stage and beside me, Nick leaned forward, lips parted, eyes locked.

I shifted my gaze and tried to see what was so friggin' special about Leah Russo, and shrugged in the dark. Okay, yeah, she was hot under the rags of her theater costume but so were a dozen other girls on the stage tonight. Hotter still were the girls who came to hear our band play. Far as I was concerned, no girl was worth the time away from our music -- except Anna. But, like I said...this was for Nick so it didn't matter what I thought. We were here, wasting a Friday night numbing our asses on crappy auditorium seats for him. Hope he at least gets laid after this.

I shifted in my broken seat, wondering how many more minutes of the hell that was Bear River High School North's production of Cats I'd have to endure. My fingers itched for my guitar and notepad. Melodies played in my head, begging to be put down on paper and there were a dozen other things we should be doing to promote Ride Out so we could get the band some notice.

I gulped back panic when I thought of us...the future. I hadn't told the guys yet about my dad's plans to put Anna in a home. I hadn't even told them about the festival yet, or my plan for our band to go mainstream so we could guarantee ourselves a spot on the ticket.

The music rose. Beside me, Nick sucked in a breath. I didn't know Leah. Nick met her at a concert a few months back and they'd been hanging out whenever they could because, Nick claimed, Leah was The One.

I hid half a laugh and shook my head. I didn't get the whole concept of The One but I'd help Nick get what he wanted.

Leah raised her face. When she opened her mouth, I sat up a little straighter. Her voice...Jesus, it was astounding. Clear. Strong. Powerful but sweet. I watched and listened, the audience around me fading away. Her voice swelled and she attacked the high notes without hesitating, making goosebumps jump out of my skin. What was the top note of her range? She glided across the stage, never struggled or stumbled. The audience waited for the crescendo and when she reached it, holy God, it was like a...a promise kept. She blew me away. The notes faded out and the rest of the production was a blur. I had no idea Leah could sing like that and couldn't take my eyes off --

My best friend's girl. Shit.

I glanced at Nick sitting next to me but he didn't look pissed off. He looked...confused.

"Dude!" Sam reached over me and punched Nick's arm. "Why the hell didn't you tell us your girl could sing like that?"

Nick just stared at Leah and shook his head. "I...I didn't know."

The lights came up and everybody got to their feet, applauding like mad. Nick held up this lame poster board sign that he made. I used that time to get my hormones under control and put Leah and her amazing voice out of my head. The rest of the cast assembled on the stage for their curtain call and I locked eyes with one of the actors -- the white cat. She was incredibly hot -- a solid body with an impressive rack. Her solo dance was the best part of the show up until Leah's song. She looked so amazing in that white cat suit. So freakin' hot.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a moment please." A teacher walked to the right of the stage and waved her hands. "Thank you all for attending our opening night performance! I am so proud of these kids. They made all their own costumes and designed the set themselves. And tonight, I want to share with you an amazing last-minute change-up to our program. Grizabella, played by Leah Russo, is ill and was unable to sing this evening. Her songs were actually sung by our white cat, played by Kristen Cartwright."

The teacher's hand swung to my favorite cat and my jaw fell open. That awesome voice was hers? Whoa. I stuck two fingers in my mouth and let loose with a shrill whistle while the audience roared their approval. The white cat's eyes met mine and I started to picture her in different clothes...maybe some black leather, studded bands on her wrists, hair long and wild down her back, strutting across a stage while I shredded the hell out the guitar. If she could sing Broadway songs without breaking a sweat, what could she do with a hard metal rock track? I wondered -- again -- just what her range was. Could she get low with some Halestorm or -- mean with a Slipknot metal scream? I should put her in Ride Out right now.

A brilliant idea struck. I pulled out my phone, snapped a photo of the white cat, and from the band's Twitter account, posted this:

Ride_Out: This cat's HAWT! And damn, can she sing. It needed a hashtag. I tapped #catCall. Oh, this was awesome. My phone buzzed a minute later with a reply from a fan calling himself JJStix88.

Sweet! Get her to meow. #catCall

I tapped out another post.

Ride_Out: Meow? Gonna make her purr! Gonna invite her to jam with us. #catCall

JJStix88: Make her arch that back! #catCall

Ride_Out: Wanna hear her scream! #catCall

Sam elbowed me. "White cat's awesome, right?"

I nodded but awesome didn't even come close to describing this girl. I couldn't tear my eyes off her rockin' body and then to learn that voice -- the most incredible sound I'd ever heard had come from her and not Leah? I dragged both hands over my face and shivered.

Sam laughed. "Jesus, dude, close your mouthbefore a puddle forms." 

I didn't notice it was still open. I closed it, swallowing hard. I had to find this girl, talk to her, beg her to sing with us. She could be just what we needed to finally break out. With her up front in some cleavage-revealing outfit, she wouldn't just get attention, she'd damn near compel it.

Sam flung an arm around my neck. "Okay, man, spill. What are you thinking?"

I grinned wide and turned to face him. I wanted that girl in our band like I wanted my next breath. "Her, Sam." I jabbed a finger toward the stage. "I want her."

"I'll bet you do." Sam's smile turned into a knowing leer. "So go get her."

Sam ran his eyes up and down my favorite cat's body. A sudden urge to rip out his throat gripped me. He folded his arms and angled his head. "She's got it all, bro."

Damn, did she ever. A smokin' hot body and roof-raising voice? We'd be unstoppable. Before I could think again, I shoved past Sam and climbed over a row of seats.

I was a man on a mission.

 -----------------------------------------

 Patty Blount's Awesome "Name-away" --

Patty Blount will name a character after two randomly-selected commentors (or a name you choose, if you don't want yours used) in an upcoming project (to be determined). To enter, all you have to do is leave a comment with the name you want used and a short description about the kind of character who should have your name. For example:

"Bailey: She's cute and terminally happy but that's just to hide a lot of insecurities."

Or

"Meg: She's serious and focused and doesn't let fun distract her from her goals."

Or

"Chase: He's loyal and would do pretty much anything for anybody."

Or

"Annelise: Because it means "grace of God" and it's my favorite name" 

-----------------------------------------

PattyBlount Presents: Sneak Preview - Nothing Left to Burn

Prologue

Home is where the heart is — unless you're me.

My steps slowed on my way to the front door, the ball of ice in my gut abruptly melting into this floe of guilt the second I heard their raised voices, every word pounding another stake through my heart.

"...can't throw out all of his stuff. I won't let you!" Mom shouted.

"Why? You think he's gonna what — rise up from the dead and say 'Thanks for keeping my room the way I left it?' Stop dreaming, Abby."

"I'm not dreaming, John. I'm grieving. Just like you and just like Reece."

Dad snorted.

I couldn't actually hear him snort, but that's what he usually did whenever he heard my name. I mean, that's what he used to do. Lately, he did this thing where he'd hesitate for second, like he was swallowing back a curse.

"That...kid. What the hell were you thinking, letting him drive at fifteen?"

And there it was, Dad's favorite fill in the blank Mad Lib. You had your pick — goddamn, stubborn, thoughtless, careless, skinny, weird, freaky... Extra points if you added a vulgar expletive.

I shut my eyes and gulped back the scream that clogged my throat since Matt died, since I...killed him. I tugged on Tucker's leash and turned away from all the shouting and the grief and the hate and just kept walking.

"Hey, Reece."

I jerked, found myself sitting on Alex's front steps, with no memory of walking the three blocks to his house. Tucker's leash was still gripped in my hand. A lifeline. "Hey, man."

"Whoa. What happened?" Alex took one look at my face and sat next to me on the top step, iPad forgotten in his hand.

I shook my head. "My parents."

He blew out a breath, fanning the hair that was always in his eyes. "Oh. So I guess that means you didn't talk to your dad?" He asked with his usual precise diction.

I hunched my shoulders. Tucker whined at the jerk on his leash.

"Reece. You have to talk to him. You promised—"

I shot to my feet. "I know. It's just... he's not the easiest guy in the world to talk to." Or be near. Or be related to. Oh, he didn't beat us or anything like that. He just...didn't care. "I'm writing a note."

Alex didn't say anything. He just reached down, scratched Tucker's head. The dog climbed up the steps, put his head in Alex's lap and stared up at him with big happy eyes, grateful for the attention. I tried not to be insulted. "Can I hang out here for a while?"

Alex grinned and handed me his tablet. "Up for some chess?"

What the hell. I shrugged, unlocked the device, started a new game and moved my pawn. Alex made his opening move. We were silent, just passing the tablet back and forth between us. Soon, the screen flashed and Alex sighed.

"Draw."

I shot him a questioning look. Since we met in chess club in fourth grade, I'd beaten Alex Boyle only eighty-six times. For us to reach an impasse during a game was statistically more improbable than winning the lottery. "You throwing games now?"

His eyebrows shot up and he shook his head. "No. But I was trying out a new mating pattern."

I nodded, but didn't ask which one. It didn't matter.

He closed the iPad's cover and gave Tucker a head pat. "So you're writing him a note?"

It wasn't the worst idea I'd ever had. Notes kind of had the last word, didn't they? Dad couldn't interrupt a note or stalk off while it was still talking. "Yeah. It's cowardly, I know. But at least I'll get it all out."

Alex suddenly grabbed my shoulders. "Reece, please don't leave. Just write the note, tell him off for the various things he's done. You'll feel better and who knows? Maybe he'll change."

I laughed. The idea of my dad changing was even less likely than winning the lottery. "No. No, I have to go, Alex. It's not just my dad. It's Mom, too. She looks at me and she sees Matt and —" I broke off, swallowed hard. I was a year younger than Matt but looked just like him. "I hurt her." And that was unbearable. "I hurt her every time she looks at me."

Alex watched a car drive down the street, his lips pressed into a tight line. He didn't say anything, didn't try to talk me out of it. He knew me better than anybody but even he didn't know how bad it had gotten with Mom crying all the time, Dad yelling at her for crying. I knew it was my fault, knew they needed time so they could heal. Time without me around to remind them of all the bad shit.

I turned to my best friend. "Could you take care of Tucker for me?"

Alex's head whipped around. "You're not taking him with you?"

"Um, no." I quickly looked away. "I don't want him there with me." Definitely not.

"Reece, you've had him since he was born. You can't leave him behind."

Tucker's ears twitched but he didn't move from his spot, curled at Alex's feet. "He likes you. I know he'll be in good hands."

Alex stared at me, mouth open and eventually nodded. "I will see what I can do."

I shut my eyes, let my shoulders fall. That was one less thing to worry about. I knew my mother wouldn't want to take care of Tucker after I was gone. I stood, walked down the porch steps and snapped my fingers. Tucker immediately stepped to my side. "I should probably go. Thanks for the game. And the talk."

Alex smiled, stretching the freckles that dotted his face. "Let's get something to eat. I'll buy."

I was happy to delay my return to home. After he dropped his iPad on the hall table and grabbed his keys, Alex walked with Tucker and me to Main Street, where we bought a few burgers and ate in the park, Tucker's leash fastened to a bench. Tucker watched a game of Frisbee, tail wagging, wishing the disk would fly his way just once so he could snag it out of the air. In the distance, the fire alarm sounded and a few minutes after that, the sirens wailed. I watched for the trucks, heart twisting in my chest.

Matt would have been on one of them, if he'd lived. He'd been a Junior Squad volunteer since he was twelve years old. At seventeen, he was finally allowed to work an actual fire scene and become a full-fledged volunteer with the Lakeshore Volunteer Fire Department. He'd turned seventeen in November.

And died in December, the day after my sixteenth birthday. It was April now and the hole Matt left just kept getting bigger and bigger and —

"Reece. Reece!"

I stared at Alex, wondering why he kept shaking me.

"It was an accident, Reece. You know it was."

I laughed. Accident was a funny word, a word people slapped onto events and incidents in one breath and then looked for somebody to blame with the next. 

That would be me.

But me? I blamed my dad. If he'd done one thing, just one thing for me the way he used to do for Matt, I never would have asked my brother to show me how to drive in the snow. And Matt would still be alive today.

Suddenly, I couldn't wait to get home and finish my note. I had sixteen years of Dad-related crap to unload. It wouldn't be a note, it would be a manifesto by the time I was done. For the first time since Matt died, I felt something pretty close to relief. I'd finally be able to fulfill the promise I made to my brother while the blood drained from his body. I would have promised him anything in the world to stop the blood.

Don't you give up, Reece! Promise me. Promise you'll fix things with Dad before you do anything.

I did. I had to. My brother was the only friend I had until I was nine years old. Even though I knew fix things with Dad was about as likely as me winning the Heisman Trophy. I'd do this last thing for my brother, and then I would go and let my parents live their lives without me around, constantly reminding them of what they'd lost.

"Well, I guess I stalled long enough," I said when Alex crumbled up his wrapper and pitched it into the trash can. The shot went wide and Tucker tried to grab it, but his chain jerked him back.

"I'll walk back with you. We can watch some Doctor Who on Netflix."

I snorted out a laugh. Doctor Who was the best emotional anesthesia I knew. My chest tightened when I thought about leaving Alex behind. I would miss him as much as I missed Matt. But there was still time.

When we reached my front door, I blew out a loud sigh, relieved I couldn't hear my parents' raised voices. We stepped inside and I unfastened Tucker's leash, hung it on the hook by the door. "Mom?"

A throat cleared. "In here."

We found her in the kitchen, staring into a cup of coffee. She lifted eyes that were swollen and red and huge inside a face that was pale and lifeless. "I didn't make dinner, but there's some leftover pasta from last night if you want to reheat it."

I shook my head, glanced at Alex. Something was wrong — off — worse. "No, um, we ate. We'll just watch some TV."

"Oh. Hi, Alex." She blinked up at him, just noticing his presence.

"Hi, Mrs. Logan."

She continued to blink and then jumped up. "Sit, sit. I'll reheat some pasta."

"Mom, it's okay. We already ate."

But she was busy pulling plates from a cupboard and a plastic container from the refrigerator.

"Mom. Mom?" I took her shoulders, turned her around to face me. "What's wrong?"

She sighed heavily and shook her head. "Your father," she said, her face blank.

I braced for it — whatever thing I'd done to piss him off this time. "What?"

The blank expression disappeared and her face turned stony and tight. "He's...gone. He's decided to leave. He doesn't want to see either of us again."

I forgot how to breathe. I opened my mouth, but the air just wouldn't move. My ribs crushed my lungs and little black and white dots filled my visual field. System offline, reboot.

When I was little, I used to have these episodes. Everything in the entire world, every fear, every worry, every thing, coalesced into a single point deep in my chest and I couldn't keep it inside. Matt was the one who'd taught me how to beat these episodes. He'd asked me silly things like "Why did the chicken cross the road?" (It didn't. The road merely passed beneath the chicken.) and "Why did six hate seven?" (Because seven was hungry and eight nine.) and if I'd been able to breathe, I'd have laughed. It helped. He told me jokes and riddles and had me answer questions because concentrating on him helped me forget about the pressure blocking my systems.

But without him, only one thought kept replaying in my head.

I promised. I promised. I promised.

He wasn't supposed to go, I was.

Dimly, some corner of my brain realized if I could think about the promise, then I could think of questions Matt would have asked. I focused on chess openings in alphabetical order. By the time I got to Evan's Gambit, I could breathe again.

"Reece. Reece!"

"I'm okay." My voice was nothing but a wisp of air. I blinked, found Mom crying next to me and Alex leaning over me. Somehow, I'd ended up in the chair Mom was in when we arrived.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," she whispered, folding me up in a tight hug.

"Not your fault." It was his. I pulled in a deep breath, trying not to pant, trying not to obsess about the damn promise. Mom pulled back and just stared at me.

"I won't lie to you. Things have been really hard since Matt," she paused, swallowed hard, and then finished the sentence. "Died."

My stomach rolled but I waited for Mom to make her point.

"Things have been hard for all of us, Reece, but they've been really hard for your Dad."

I blinked. Did I hear her right? Did she just make a fucking excuse for him?

"He can't talk about it. He can't face it. He can't even look at Matt's things. He's in complete denial."

Oh, how terrible for him.

"Give him the time and space he wants and maybe he'll—"

My sound of disgust stopped her from finishing this sentence. She raked hair off her face — it was wild and sticking out all over — and put up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"No. Forget it. Reece, the truth is, your father will never change. Let him go. We'll be fine without him." Her voice cracked and she pressed her lips together. "You boys go watch your show. I'm going upstairs to soak in a hot tub."

We listened to her footsteps climb the stairs and creak over our heads. Alex pulled out the chair next to me and sat down with a sigh. "Reece, you okay?"

It was a rhetorical question. Okay was a state of being that I hadn't felt in a long time and he knew it. I was tired, tired of hearing excuses for my father, tired of being treated like a freak because I wasn't Matt, tired of myself.

I shook my head and he stood up. "Come on. Let's watch TV, get out of our heads for a while."

Alex had the uncanny ability to compartmentalize his world. We'd watch TV and some part of his highly evolved brain would be working on chess gambits, SAT practice exams, and plans for the hovercraft he was bitterly disappointed to not yet have. Halfway into the first episode, Alex suddenly turned to me with the familiar gleam in his eye and twitch in his lip that I knew meant he had a theory.

"Reece," he began appraising me from head to toe. "What does your dad love beyond all things?"

I considered that for a moment. Half an hour ago, I'd have said my mother, but what the hell did I know? "Fire fighting," I finally answered.

Alex clapped his hands. "Yes! Exactly. It's something he'd never quit, right?"

Slowly, I nodded, not quite connecting the dots. "Right."

"What if you were to join the Junior Squad?"

When my jaw dropped, Alex stopped my protest with a raised hand. "Just listen. He's a career firefighter. Loves it so much, he hired extra crews for his business so he could spend more time volunteering. If you signed up, he couldn't walk away from you. He couldn't ignore you. And he couldn't kick you out — not unless you did something so terrible, he'd have no choice."

I was six-foot-two and a hundred and fifty pounds if I wore clothes on the scale. "I'm not... physical enough for that."

He waved a hand. "Matt didn't get ripped until he was like sixteen and you're taller than he was. You put the effort into training, you'll be able to do it."

"Maybe, but he'll never sign the permission form."

Alex inclined his head. "True." And then he grinned. "But your mom will. Especially if you ask her now."

My eyes popped wide. He was right. She was so pissed at my dad, she might do anything if she thought it would upset him back. "I like the letter idea better."

Alex shook his head. "Write it if you need to get it out, but a letter now won't make an impression. He's already gone. You need to get inside him, Reece." He tapped his temple.

"Yeah." I reconsidered. "Yeah, where he lives."

Alex smiled. "Exactly."

***********

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