But this time the sounds didn’t come from his bedroom, they were coming from the little study where she and John Wesley had slept and stayed that first day. She moved the sliding door aside and found three different boys, laying crossways on their air mattress and on their sheets. One of them had his shirt off, a goddamn needle and a rubber tie-off on his fucking arm. They looked tired, one boy in an office chair had a cigarette in his lips, nodding off as he stared right into TJ’s face.

“Where the fuck is Graham?” TJ asked.

No one answered. She wasn’t sure if they were knocked out or dead, snatching John Wesley’s blanket out from under one, sending him toppling to the floor. The space smelled of sweat and body funk, maybe someone pissing their damn pants. She could hear John Wesley in the living room hitting the Madden 19, the game just kicking off as she walked from room to room in the two-story house, opening and shutting doors, looking for Graham and Chastity. There were beer cans and bottles of booze everywhere. The kitchen island covered in all types of cocktails and cigarette butts, a mirror that had been pulled off the wall still coated with a fine white dust. She found a nude girl passed out in a shower and a boy sitting on the toilet. Fucking junkies.

She was about to grab John Wesley and head out, go anywhere but here, when Chastity and Graham bungled into the front door. Laughing, nearly falling over their feet. Graham looked even older than TJ first thought, in a long-sleeved button-down shirt and khaki pants. His face skinny as hell, stubbled and pockmarked. Sometime last night Chastity had mentioned he’d gone to Vanderbilt for a while, until he got kicked out.

“Well, hello there,” Chastity said. “Superstar.”

“This shit ain’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Chastity said, squeezing her thumb and forefinger together, giggling like hell. “Don’t you think?”

“Where you been?” TJ asked. “Who the hell are them people?”

“Them people,” Chastity said. “Isn’t she hilarious? That little country accent.”

“Y’all had some kind of damn party,” TJ said. “Fucking junkies strung out all over the place. Some nekkid girl up in the shower with a boy passed out on the commode. Come on, Chastity. Hell. You’re better than this.”

“Did you see?” Chastity said, using Graham to keep her balance. “Did you see this shit? Fucking three hundred thousand likes?”

“Yeah,” TJ said. “And it don’t mean shit.”

“It means they’re listening.”

“Yeah,” Graham said. “They’re listening. That’s good. Right?”

“Shut up, Graham,” TJ said. “Either clear these junkies out or me and John Wesley are long gone. Y’all hearing me?”

“Fine,” Chastity said, pushing past TJ’s shoulder. “Just give me back my goddamn phone.”