“But she said that’s how you looked, so I just had to see for myself, I suppose.” He tilted his head and gave me the once-over suspiciously. “She was right.” He looked somewhat annoyed.

“Listen—”

“I don’t know what I thought I’d find, but this?” he said, raising his voice.

He was really very fucking annoyed.

“I mean, I get here, and you’re chatting with some swimmer dude, looking all happy and answering to ‘Thomas’ now?” He was moving on to angry rather fast. “What the fuck, Tommy?!”

“Jonas—”

This time, it wasn’t Jonas who interrupted me.

“Thomas, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Not now, Dean,” I said, possibly a bit angry myself.

“Sure,” he said awkwardly, and as he walked away, “No problem.”

Or maybe it was the fact that Jonas looked like he could take him that had scared him off; I didn’t really care.

“Another friend?”

“He’s my bully, sort of.”

“What?” He was fuming now.

“It doesn’t matter, Jonas. Listen—”

He took a long, deep breath and looked at me.

“—I’ve got therapy in a bit,” I said. “Walk with me?”

*

We were silent for a few blocks, him trying to cool down and me trying to figure out what to do or say.

“I don’t mean that I think it’s a bad thing,” Jonas said, without turning to me. “You being back.”

“I know.”

“Or fine,” he said, still facing forward. “It’s good that you’re feeling like yourself again.”

“But I’m not. Not really.”

“Fine or back?”

“Either?”

Now, that got him to turn and face me.

“What do you mean?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“I don’t know, man.” It was the most honest I’d ever been in my entire life. The truest. I gave a prolonged sigh. “Thing is. I’m a coward.”

He stopped walking.

“I am. I’m a coward,” I said. “Everyone thinks I’m this brave person; the guy who wouldn’t rest until he found his brother that night—” I shook my head.

I didn’t know if he was ready to walk again, but I couldn’t get through this conversation without something to focusing on, so I started back up.

“—when, in reality, I’m just the guy who couldn’t save his brother because he was too wasted.”

“Tommy—”

“Just like I’m not the brave kid battling depression; I’m the one who took months planning a suicide but got caught.”

“Don’t say that.” He sounded so hurt.

“But it’s the truth.”

Why couldn’t anyone ever get that?

“I’m not a good person, Jonas.”

“What!”

He sounded so appalled. I had the strangest urge to smile.

“I’m not. I’m really not,” I told him, shaking my head. “I fail, constantly. I failed Liam, I failed my parents, I definitely failed Noah—”

He stopped walking again, but I kept going.