“What did Jennifer say about the accident?” I asked.

“What do you remember about that night, Ryan?” Aaron asked. “What exactly do you recall happening when we drove off and wrecked everything? Eighteen months in jail. No degree. No way to get a job. What happened during that ride?”

My mind scanned back through the years, pinpointing that night I’d thought about so many times before. I remembered the drinking, the smell of stale beer, the wooziness and sloppiness the alcohol brought on. The music pounded as we poured shots and pushed them toward the fresh-faced kids who wanted to join Sigil and Shield. I remembered someone handing me a joint, which I might or might not have smoked. I remembered dancing with someone I might or might not have known.

And I remembered Aaron. Young. Eager. His clothes not quite right. His attempts at jokes not quite landing. And the desperation to belong oozed off of him like sweat. It covered every inch of his body. He followed Blake around like a puppy. He drank what Blake handed him. He fetched Blake beers when he needed them. At some point, a song came on, something stupid and cloying, and Blake told Aaron to dance. So Aaron danced, making a fool of himself in front of everyone. We laughed with him. But mostly at him.

And then . . .

“We went out to get the sign,” I said. “That was my idea. It used to be a tradition with Sigil and Shield. They’d done it for years, but the club got in trouble for stealing it before we started at Ferncroft, so we had to stop. But we always wanted to get it one more time before we graduated. I’d always talked about doing it with Blake, but that night, I told you to do it. And we went in my car. And you know what happened. We all do.”

“Do we?” Aaron asked. “How did you find out about the accident?”

I remembered that. Vividly.

I woke up in the emergency room. My head was pounding. My body hurt. I knew we’d been in an accident, and when Blake came into the room, I asked him if anyone had been hurt. He said Aaron had been banged up pretty good.

And he told me he just didn’t know about the other car. But he thought it was bad.

Very bad.

Deep shit, he said. We’re going to be in deep shit.