“You don’t want your dick to do your thinking for you.”

“Right. And what else?”

“It’s easy to believe someone likes you because everybody wants to be liked.”

“That’s right,” Jem said. “And people will believe anything if they want it to be true. Even you. Even me.”

Benny just shrugged.

“What’s her name?” Jem asked again.

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“For Christ’s sake.”

“Anyway, I won’t be your problem for much longer,” Benny said. “They’re going to kill me.”

“You’re not a problem. And nobody’s going to kill you, Benny.”

“They are. I know too much; it’s all right here. They have to get rid of me.”

“Benny, I know you don’t like how you feel on the meds, but you can’t just go off them. We’ll go see the doctor again. We’ll find something that helps you and doesn’t make you feel bad.”

Benny shrugged.

“How’s your pump?”

“Fine.”

“Insulin?”

“Fine.”

“Did you test your blood sugar?”

“It’s fine, Jem.”

“When’s the last time you tested it?”

“Dunno.”

“Ok, I’ll get a strip.”

“This morning.”

“Benjamin Lindsey Guthall, if you are lying to me, I will beat your ass.”

He flashed Jem a wounded look. “I checked it this morning.”

After that, there wasn’t much Jem could do. He conducted his final walkthrough and spotted the backpack with a pup tent strapped to the top. When he got back to the living room, he said, “Are you going to the Jenkins’ place?”

“Maybe.”

“No, we don’t play that way.”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

“When, Benny?”

“Tonight.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jem said.

“I don’t! I know too much, Jem. I’ve got to lie low for a while. I’ll be up there until it’s safe to come back.”

“Did you tell the Jenkins you were coming?”

“Not yet.”

“Fine. I’ll call them. Next week, Benny, we’re going to see your doctor, and we’re going to try different meds.”

Benny was reordering the pages in his lap.

“Tell me you heard me.”

“Ok, all right, I heard you.”

“What’s our rule?”

“You’ve got a million rules.”

“What’s our rule, Benny?”

“Cell phone on and charged, and I answer when you call.”

“Even if you’re in a movie.”

“Even if I’m in a movie,” Benny repeated.

“Even if you’re taking a dump.”

“You’re so gross.”

“Get up and give me a hug.”

“Jem,” Benny whined.

“Get your fat ass up.”

After some more groaning, Benny stood, and they hugged.

“Eat that before it’s cold,” Jem said, pointing at the lasagna, where the red sauce was already congealing.

Benny just nodded and mumbled.

Outside, at the bottom of the stairs, Tommy Johnson, twelve years old, was smoking a fatty blunt. His eyes were glazed when he looked up at Jem.

“That bad?” Jem asked.

Tommy blew a ring of smoke, his head sagging back as he stared at the October sky.

“Let me get a hit,” Jem said. Tommy passed it over, and Jem took a few long drags, holding the smoke, his eyes closed, letting the world soften. When he passed it back, he said, “You eat dinner?”