“I can’t, Drew. I can’t promise you that.” The ocean streams down my face and Drew holds me close and I hate myself for hurting him, for ruining this moment. “In the hospital, I … I realized something. The pills, they, they make me feel normal. Without them, my brain—it just doesn’t work anymore. I need them. To get through senior year.”

“You don’t. I promise. You just have to get used to not having them again.”

“You don’t understand! Okay? You can’t possibly. So don’t talk to me like you do, because you don’t.”

“Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He runs his hands across my back, long, soothing strokes. I never told him how I need that, but he knows, somehow he knows. “You said you were stronger than I think—than any of us think. I believe you. You are, Hannah. So strong. Look what you’ve come through already. You can fight this. I know you can. We can.”

I cover my face, say the words through the bars of my fingers. Can’t he see I’m in a cell I can’t get out of?

“I can’t. Not on empty. I’m telling you, my brain just doesn’t—if I just had one—can’t you give me—”

“No.” He’s firm. Gently slides my fingers back so he can see me. “I’m not holding, and I won’t ever be again, and I will fucking kill anyone who sells to you, and that’s a promise.”

Drew takes the necklace out of the box, and I shake my head, but he slips it around my neck anyway, secures the clasp.

I start to cry for real. Horrible, ugly, pathetic tears. “Drew, please … Your cousin. Eddie. He likes me, right? When he was over that one time, he said anything I need, he’d get it for me.”

“He shouldn’t have fucking said that, and I told him so.”

“But, Drew, he’ll have something. Even just some Vicodin. Just, I need help to get through … please. I know you love me. I need you. I need your help.”

“I do love you. I do, Hannah. All of me loves all of you.”

“Not this part.”

“Yes, yes: this part, too.”

I cry harder. Because the way he says it—he’s not on my side. He won’t help. I thought he saw me, but he doesn’t. If he did, he’d help me.

“Your mom loved Yoko, right?”

I blink, surprised he remembered from whatever rambling monologue that was from. “Yeah.”

“Okay, well. Yoko—what would she say to you, huh? Or your mom? What would they say? To help you right now?”