Another thing about Jordan I didn’t know. How much was there about my brother that I didn’t see because I was too intent on him staying the person he had always been to me? How much did I miss by resenting him? Those nights when I thought he was tagging along after me to parties because he wanted to feel superior. When I look back on it now, I see it so differently. I remember all those times he made sure I didn’t drink too much, the times he would hide my Solo cups full of vodka from me even though I would get so angry at him. The times he and Lucy would collect me and Chim from parties and drive us home, and then Jordan would help sneak me in through the front door so our parents wouldn’t hear. He was doing it because he cared. Because he knew that I was losing myself. Because he loved me.

My throat tightens and I swallow hard to hold back the tears that threaten to spring into my eyes.

Lucy, who’s been chatting with the girl standing with Anne, turns back to us. “Sorry to interrupt, guys, but I have to go help set up.” She looks at me. “You coming?” I nod. Anne and I exchange wobbly smiles, and then Lucy leads me toward the makeshift stage.

As we push through the crowd, I make eye contact with Brian, Jordan’s friend. He’s walking through the crowd on the other side of the room. My heart skips a beat in my chest, as it always does when I see him, but for the first time I hold his gaze. His eyes widen for a second, like he’s surprised that I’m not running away, but after a beat they grow sad. He smiles and raises his hand in greeting, and it flashes through my head that he’s a leftover, just like me. Jordan’s gone. Marcus is gone. He’s the only one of their trio who’s still here. I smile back. I wave. I mouth “I’m sorry.” He nods, and before I can say more, my view is blocked by a group of people shuffling up to get closer to the stage.