“I need you to come home.”
“What? Why? What happened? Why do you sound like that?”
“It’s important. It’s Ty.”
“Is he—”
“He’s fine. For now. He’s not hurt. But if you’re not here, I can’t promise he won’t be by the time I’m done with him.”
“Bear,” Otter chided gently. “What’s going on?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and only had to fumble for a moment until I could take a picture and send it to him via text. “Did you get it?”
There was a pause. Then, “Shit. Shit. I’m on my way. It’ll probably take me about five hours.”
“He’s going to the library after class.”
“How did you find out?”
“Please. I can’t—I need you here. With me. I know you’re busy, and I know you’ve got this thing going on, but I—”
“I’m coming. I swear. Just—don’t do anything rash, okay? Even if for some reason he comes home, don’t push it. We’ll figure this out. It’s not too late. We’ve caught it in time. This can be fixed. We will fix this.”
I closed my eyes. “Yeah.”
I CAN come home earlier, Ty said in a later text.
I stared at it for the longest time, and I—
(“We’re only given so many people in our lives, so many people that will love us unconditionally. Why do you think that is? I think it’s because of times like this, times when you think they are gone and you see just how big of a hole in your heart that you have. And it’s big, isn’t it, Bear? We’re all a puzzle, and when one of us is gone, that piece is missing, and we’re incomplete. You above all others should have realized that.
“You have a chance, a chance to make something for yourself, something that is just for you but that you can share with the rest of the world. How dare you throw that back in our faces?
“The Bear I know wouldn’t let that happen. The Bear I know would kick and scream and claw his way to protect what’s his. The Bear I know would fight. And fight. And fight until he had nothing left in him, because the Bear I know would never give up.”)
—couldn’t even think of a single thing to say.
No, I texted back. It’s fine.
“SHIT,” OTTER said again, standing in the Kid’s room, nudging the orange bottles with his foot.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
He glanced over at me. “This isn’t your fault. This isn’t our fault.”
I shrugged, looking away.
“Bear.”
“We should have noticed. It shouldn’t have been up to some goddamn stranger to show us what was right in front of us.”
“He’s smart. Smarter than both of us combined. He might have made a mistake sooner or later, but he was good. At hiding it.”
I snorted. “A mistake. What do you think that mistake would have been, Otter? Tell me. Would it have been when we find him the next morning in his bed, fucking choking on his own goddamn vomit?”
“Hey,” he said sharply. “I’m not the bad guy here. You don’t need to lash out at me. That’s not fair.”
“God,” I said, pressing my thumbs into the sides of my head. “Fuck. I know. I’m sorry. That wasn’t—I don’t think—”