Dan put on The White Album and turned it up, lying facedown on his bed, but then all he could do was listen to himself go crazy. Cady Bloom had dumped him and he’d never even kissed her. I’m such a fucking loser. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from a hiding spot under the mattress and turned off “Helter Skelter.” He whispered to no one, “What the fuck is going on?” and then got up off the bed. He ran out of the house and down the driveway, stopping at the concrete wall in front. The storm clouds were much closer, and the wind began to whistle through the trees. Cady, all those girls, it’s like a stupid game to them, everyone trying to rise in the cool rankings. Well, fuck that.

He had no idea what to do. He lit a cigarette and started pacing along the wall. So many things he couldn’t hold in or let go. Who the fuck do you trust? How do you get close? It’s a goddamn mystery and I’m just a pathetic virgin and I don’t get why I’m wired like Frankenstein around girls. Is this how I’m built? Like some scared, ridiculous pervert? How did that happen?

He coughed as the smoke blew back into his face. And I’m stuck in my own selfish bullshit, while my dad is dying. Fuck, I’m going to lose him.

He tried hard not to cry. The traffic on Crown Shore was steady. People coming home from church, the wash and yawn of cars going back and forth. I just need to get out of here. No one seemed to notice Dan as he stood there holding in his sobs.

Until a black Monte Carlo pulled up to the curb. The tinted window rolled down, and Dan quickly wiped his cheeks on his sleeve.

“Are you okay?”

It was Emma Wesselman. She was driving her father’s car.

“No,” he blurted.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, leave me alone.”

“Well something happened.”

“You’re not fucking helping.”

“Sorry.”

And then something in Dan broke and his eyes met Emma’s worried smile.

“Where are you coming from?”

“Practice.” Emma was always playing basketball up at W. T. White.

“Can we go somewhere?”