“I figured it out. I died about half an hour ago! I’m dead. That’s why.”

Brooke shot me a sideways glance. “Oh dear.”

“Is this bad?” I asked. “Can he die?”

“Nah, you only die from edibles if you do something stupid while you’re high and that kills you,” Brooke said. “He’ll be fine if we keep an eye on him. He might green out, though, if it gets any worse.”

Well that sounded ominous. “Which means?”

“Puking, sweating, all the fun stuff.”

“I’m not nauseous,” Finn said. “It’s just that … existence itself is … existence is a vacuum of bleak despair.” He touched his chin with hesitant fingers, like he half-expected it to have vanished.

Brooke climbed onto the sofa, trying and failing to contain a giggle. “Oh, my poor bunny,” she cooed as she wrapped her arms around Finn.

How were we supposed to keep an eye on him until he sobered up? What if he ran away or something and danced through the freeway traffic or tightrope-walked along a canal? All at once I was horrifyingly aware we were responsible for a human with the memory span of a blowfly, the critical thinking levels of a distracted three-year-old, and the speed and strength of a seventeen-year-old boy.

Well, okay, who could we trust to keep him safe until he sobered up? Hunter and Luke were downstairs, sure, but they’d definitely been drinking, and, now that I thought about it, had probably eaten gummies right along with Finn, given they all came together. Group effort where the Q&Q Club shared joint responsibility for him? Nope, even worse, then everyone would assume someone else knew where he was if he disappeared.

Could we just … barricade him in here with some food and water and hope for the best?

Then, with a relieved rush, I realized the best option here was obvious.

“Hey, Finn, I’m gonna call Brougham to come and get you, all right?” I said.

“Oh, Brougham,” Finn breathed, cupping Brooke’s cheek as he spoke. “I love Brougham.”

“Why do you have Brougham’s number?” Brooke asked while Finn caressed her face. The phone was ringing already, though, so I held up an apologetic finger as an excuse to dodge the question.

When Brougham answered with a surprised, “Hey, Phillips?” my first thought was it was odd to hear his voice again after acting like we didn’t know each other.

“Hey, um, so don’t freak out but something’s happened with Finn.”

Brougham’s response was sharp and sudden. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. Apparently, someone gave him some edibles, and they got the dosage wrong or something … he’s really out of it. I’ve been drinking so I can’t take him home, and—”

“Yep, yeah, I’m coming. You guys still at Alexei’s?”

“Yeah. Do you know where they live?”