Q looks incredulous. “Smothering? I was trying to be there!” His voice hot, sharp. “Is that what he told you? That I was some pitiful kid he rescued like Captain Save-a-Loser?” He turns to me. “Barely friends? Really, dude?”

I don’t need to see Autumn’s face to know she’s hurt, but she swivels to show me, anyway. And for a second, they’ve joined forces. A temporary alliance against their common enemy.

“Jamal . . . ,” Autumn says, my name like a hair caught in her throat.

I shrug. “I don’t see how the terminology I used matters . . .”

But Q’s a runaway train. “Everything matters! J, you were my best friend and you were in the worst pain, what was I supposed to do?”

And it’s like, for a moment, the anger isn’t as red, the resentment not so bitter. Because his question is valid. What was he supposed to do?

“No, answer me, Jamal. What would you have me do?”

And I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

More kids trickle over, a circle slowly forming around us.

“I don’t know,” I hear myself say.

“That’s what I thought,” Q says, his words wet with venom. “The truth is you sacrificed me. I was your scapegoat.”

And now I’m shaking.

And I want to say because you killed them.

You killed them.

And I would sacrifice you a thousand times over if it would bring them back.

“Just say the words,” Q’s insisting. “You needed a villain. Someone to be mad at, and you chose me, the only person outside of Whit who would’ve stuck around no matter what. I told myself over and over it wasn’t personal. But there’s only so many times you can tell yourself that before you sound stupid even to yourself.”

“You wanna know the real reason I was so angry? Why I’m still angry?”

“I’m right here, aren’t I?”

“I’m so angry because you . . .”

Now Autumn grasps my shoulder. “J, don’t.”

But I move beyond her grip, closer to Q. “Because you . . . because you . . .”

But I can’t do it. I just can’t.

Quincy laughs. “Didn’t think so.” He nods toward Autumn. “See. You’re in love with a coward.”

Autumn scoffs. “You know, for someone so concerned with me interjecting myself, you sure love including me.”

“Honestly, Q? I don’t get it. Like, what’s your problem? Why are you so mad?” I ask.