He saw Theo in class on Monday, his lip patched up. Theo didn’t look over at him at all—not to insult, or blame, or tell a teacher what had happened...nothing.

It was a few days later—after he’d nearly killed Theo, and Theo had tried to kill him—that Jack finally heard all of what had happened...about Theo’s dad going to jail.

He wondered, in a dark, bitter moment, if there were such a big difference between a mother who didn’t feed you and a father who abandoned you for money.

He unpacked his suitcase. He thought about apologizing, about making some kind of amends, about finding commonality, maybe, with the boy he had always hated and always—

But Theo wouldn’t look at him, in class or in the hall or on the lacrosse field, and Jack—

He realized he was too much of a coward to try.

So he watched Theo’s lip heal, and he picked the scabs off his hand, and he kept his mouth shut.

Chapter Six

“That’s it.” Tom pushed a check across the table.

“You don’t have to.”

“But I can. I can do it now.”

Theo looked at his oldest friend, his familiar face and his open, satisfied expression. He felt that twinge of guilt, but he also felt overwhelming pride.

They sat on low couches, glass-paned walls around them revealing all of Baltimore, hundreds of feet below. The bar wasn’t full, not yet, but the servers were busy around them, whispering and preparing for a crowded, hectic night. Tom had picked up a menu and spent some time dissecting it—Occupational hazard, he had said—before he pulled out his checkbook and signed with a cheerful flourish.

It was a perfect September afternoon, blindingly beautiful here in the sky, and Theo itched to jump out and fly. He thought about how badly he had wanted freedom back when they were both so painfully young. Freedom that Tom now had.

The money on the table wasn’t much, but it was the last of the investment Theo had made in Tom’s first restaurant in New Orleans, and Tom seemed a little giddy to give it back. Theo hadn’t asked for it—had not expected any of it returned—but as he watched his friend’s face, he thought about what it must feel like to be entirely unburdened by debt. Theo had invested because he wanted to, but he could admit to himself that he also invested out of...out of some desire to apologize.

I’m sorry, he had thought, all those years ago as he passed over a check, I’m sorry for my father. I’m sorry for what my family did to yours.

Tom must have understood that irrational guilt, and as he handed over his own check today, it felt a lot like forgiveness. Like forgiveness was never necessary at all.