Q grins. “Also, Autumn is very persuasive. And charming. And smart. And utterly gorgeous,” Q says. “Not sure what she sees in you.”

I push his smirking-laughing ass away, but I agree. “Whatever it is, I hope it never goes away.”

40

Autumn’s waiting for us at the entrance to Cursed Canyon.

When we’re close enough, I reach over and take Q’s hand, and it takes him a second to realize, and then he’s telling me he’s glad to see I haven’t wasted the last two years maturing. Autumn asks Q if he’s a hugger and then the two of them are embracing and I make a joke that I’m lonely, that I like hugs too.

And what could be better than this? My current favorite person with my former favorite person on either side of me, the best Jamal sandwich ever constructed.

And how could I not be happy when they’re both so happy?

We hit Battle Bayou, Annihilator II, Hedge’s Revenge, and we’ve got so much more on our roller-coaster horizon, but for now we’re waiting for fried cheese on a stick.

Q’s still pumped from Revenge, throwing air punches like he’s warding off the blue raiders. If he’s stopped smiling since we got off that first ride, I haven’t seen it.

Which is great.

But also, it makes me feel twenty-four types of crappy. Because I can’t help but think all this fun is balanced on a lie. That Q should know the truth. That no one’s ever owed anything more in the history of the world than me owing Q this.

I have to tell him.

Because friendship is someone willing to tell you the hard truth.

I throat-clear. “Hey, Q?”

“What up?” Apparently, the Hedge’s raiders are quite the foe—he’s ratcheted up his air-punching intensity several notches now.

“I was . . . uh . . . you . . . you’d want me to tell you if, uh, there was something kinda big and it was about . . .”

Q extracts his phone from his pocket, taps the screen, and slips out of line, holding his finger up at me like hold on, be right back.

“What are you thinking about telling him?” Autumn asks.

I shrug. “Nothing. Just being hypothetical.”

Q returns a few moments later.

“My bad, J. That was Mom.”

“Everything okay?”

“I guess. She didn’t know I was coming here and she’s acting all upset about me missing dinner.” He drops his phone back into his pocket. “Anyway, you were saying something?”

I shake my head. “You know what? It’s nothing that can’t wait.”

What? Give me a break, okay? Telling your friend he’s dead is something you have to build up to.

Autumn laughs. “Smash these cheese sticks and then Steel Throne?”

I groan. “Again?”

Q clasps his humongous hands together in prayer. “It’s my fave.”