Chapters (122)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Facts
- 101
- 100
- 23 Months After the Funeral
- 99
- 98
- 97
- 96
- 95
- 94
- 93
- 92
- 91
- 90
- 89
- 88
- 87
- 86
- 85
- 84
- 83
- 82
- 81
- 80
- 79
- 78
- 77
- 76
- 75
- 74
- 73
- 72
- 71
- 70
- 69
- 68
- 67
- 66
- 65
- 64
- 63
- 62
- 61
- 60
- 59
- 58
- Postreanimation Day 1
- 57
- 56
- 55
- 54
- 53
- 52
- 51
- 50
- 49
- 48
- 47
- Day 2
- 46
- 45
- 44
- 43
- 42
- 41
- 40
- 39
- 38
- 37
- 36
- Day 3
- 35
- 34
- 33
- 32
- 31
- 30
- Day 4
- 29
- 28
- 27
- 26
- Quincy
- 25
- Jamal
- 24
- 23
- 22
- 21
- 20
- Day 4
- 19
- 18
- 17
- Day 5
- 16
- 15
- 14
- 13
- 12
- 11
- 10
- Day 6
- 9
- 8
- 7
- 6
- 5
- 4
- 14 Days Postreanimation
- 3
- 2
- 1
- 0
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Justin A. Reynolds
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
Marcus shakes his head, sighs for the hundredth time since we sat down. “Jamal, tell me why your friendship ended.”
72
Two Months After the Funeral
QUINCY: Hey, just thought you’d want to know it’s not looking good. Doctors said he probably only has a few weeks left so I thought you might wanna come and see him, you know.
And then a week later.
QUINCY: he’s gone
QUINCY: not that you care
My finger brushed the doorbell, but I didn’t push it.
I’m not sure how long I stood out there, on the Barrantes porch, before the door swung open.
Before I got what was coming to me.
“You’re too late, Jamal,” Q spat. “Why’d you even bother?”
And I couldn’t even look at him.
“Q,” I said. “Q,” I said again, the words not coming.
For two months, I’d been so angry. All I could think was if Q hadn’t called, my parents would be here, in our kitchen, in their bed, on our porch. And the more Q tried to be there for me, the angrier I became.
I was so stupid.
But as usual, I made matters worse, ignoring his texts.
And of course, he thought it was because I didn’t care.
But the truth is, I couldn’t stand to look at him. I couldn’t separate Q’s face from theirs.
“I’m . . . I’m so—”
But Q waved me off. “Don’t you dare,” he said. “Don’t fucking dare.”
And I couldn’t even roll another word to the tip of my tongue before the door slammed, rocked so hard the hand-painted sign fell of its hook.
Bless This House, it said.
But I was too late.
Even before I stepped off that porch, the lesson was clear: There comes a point when, no matter what they’d done to you, you couldn’t justify continuing to treat someone terribly.
There comes a point when it’s no longer their problem, only yours.
And you could forgive and heal, or you could keep clutching that hurt, like a hot coal against your chest.
71
| A SPECIAL JAUNCY UPDATE | TuberOne |
| 22,212 views |
|
Quincy: Hey guys, so this is more of an announcement than anything. I know you all have been asking, What’s going on with you and J? Well, I’m not gonna get into all the details, because honestly, I’m kinda wondering the same thing. But I’ll say this, as of now, we won’t be making any more videos together. Because, as it turns out, it’s kinda hard to make videos with someone when you’re not even talking, so, haaaaaaa.
But, never fear, I’m still gonna be here.
Yep, the UNCY in Jauncy ain’t going nowhere . . .
So, I hope you guys stay put too.
Keep checking back every Saturday for new content, okay!
Quincy out!
Peaaaaacceeeee!