I’m so tense I’m shaking. All I can think about is May walking away from me when I dropped her off the other day. The way she shut down after we left the jail. The fact that I had to go into the building to find her, because she was too far gone to make it out herself.

Where the hell is she? Why did I leave her alone?

Chapter Forty-eight

Memories well up in me, each one more vivid than the last. Jordan on our sixth birthday, sitting with me in front of our cakes. He got a Superman one and I got a Minnie Mouse one and we both loved them so much and our mom was so happy, and our dad didn’t yell once that whole day.

The first time Jordan played a guitar, in fourth grade, he surprised us all—he was so good. Naturally talented, unlike most of the other kids—unlike me. He picked it up so fast, and he was writing his own music before sixth grade began.

When we were thirteen, and our dad made us both apply to the Stanford Summer Arts Institute. The dismissive look my dad gave me when the emails arrived and only Jordan was accepted.

Freshman year, finally able to join a band at school together. Jazz band was great at first. Great until it wasn’t. Great until it was yet another place where Jordan excelled and I did not.

Me, last year, too drunk to stand upright, leaning against the wall outside our house fumbling with my keys, trying to get them into the lock. Jordan was behind me waiting, and after a few seconds passed he told me to hand over the keys, and he did it himself. I don’t remember much else about it except that I didn’t thank him—I never thanked him. I just acted like he was in my way as I shoved by him into the house.

—

I open the door to the auditorium, crowded by these thoughts. The last time I was in here was with Zach. His face flits across the edge of my mind. I shake it away. I can’t let anything distract me from what I came here to do. I grip my notebook tight between my hands and walk toward the stage.

I spent the last few days alone, hiding in my room. I was tempted to raid my parents’ liquor cabinet, to drown out the thoughts in my brain like I used to, but it was better punishment to keep myself sober and aware. To not let myself forget.

I haven’t been to school in days. I couldn’t go. I could barely put on my clothes to get here this afternoon, and the only reason I did is because I have some things I need to say.