I don’t hear from Joe on the third day, or the fourth one. I keep sending him tidbits of what I’m doing, things I’m working on. Music. Lyrics. Sketches. It’s like pulling teeth. It is possible that he doesn’t check his email very often. Or that my emails go straight to spam. It feels like flooring the accelerator when the car’s in neutral. But it’s better than not doing anything at all, and I can’t stop thinking about what I promised Mom. I have to get better about how I treat the people I love who are still here.

And then, one day, two weeks after Joe’s birthday, I log in to my email and find a new message from him. His name is in bold. Joseph Graves. My fingers quiver. So much hinges on his answer.

Please stop bothering me before I file a restraining order against you is a possibility.

But also, Okay, let’s play. Want to hold each other accountable? I’ll write a little every day, you’ll sketch.

When I open his email, I find neither.

There is no text at all. Just a Word document attachment. With words. Four thousand three hundred and two of them, to be specific.

I open the file and gulp the words down like a parched man who has found water in the desert. Joe picked up where he left off in his manuscript. His character, a Holden Caulfield of sorts, is still on the road, trying to find the meaning of life in New Orleans. Although in the last chapter, he decides to move to Raleigh to get away from the drugs. I love it. It’s raw. It’s dark. It reminds me of the stuff I grew up on.

I write him an email back. It’s one word.

From: Ever Lawson

To: Joseph Graves

More.

This time, it takes him less than five minutes to reply. Has he been waiting all this time for me to read it? What if I hadn’t seen it right away? Adrenaline is running through my veins.

From: Joseph Graves

To: Ever Lawson

Do you think it’s too Kerouac?

From: Ever Lawson

To: Joseph Graves

I think all authors use their literary hero’s voice until they find their own. Keep going.

From: Joseph Graves

To: Ever Lawson

This is purely about work, Ever. I don’t want to get together. Every time we do, you leave.

He is right. He is right and it kills me. He is right and I deserve this. He is right, and I don’t want him to be right, because I know, deep down, it was always Joe.

From: Ever Lawson

To: Joseph Graves

I understand.

From: Joseph Graves

To: Ever Lawson

Know how I spent my birthday?

From: Ever Lawson

To: Joseph Graves

?

From: Joseph Graves

To: Ever Lawson