“No, she’s not.” Micah’s voice was icy calm. “You can make a choice for yourself, not for someone else, not for her.”

August threw the cigarette carton onto the ground, ran his hand through his hair and laughed. “God, I could really use a fucking joint right now.”

“Auggie,” said Micah, shaking his head slightly, “you know it’s only you who can control those urges.”

“You bring drugs in the house and tell me to resist, Micah? You’re full of shit and I finally see it.”

Micah hooked his thumbs into his front pockets and smirked. “Well, I could say the same about Zoe. After all this time, how can you expect me to resist?”

In a sudden burst, August took a swing at Micah, whose head twisted to the side as the punch landed. Sero covered her mouth with her palm to contain her gasp. Micah stumbled and, after he regained his footing, touched his mouth and saw blood. The expression around his eyes hardened. As if in slow motion, Micah reeled back his arm and his fist made contact with August’s jaw with an unmistakable crack. August flew backwards, his head slamming against the hard concrete wall of the stable. Buddy whinnied and shook his head. Sero wrapped her arms around Buddy’s neck and buried her face there, unsure if she was comforting him or herself.

“August!” Micah shouted. “Come on, Auggie.” Sero turned to peek through the window and saw Micah crouched on the ground, slapping August’s face. “Oh god. Oh no. Auggie! Oh shit.” She watched as he checked for August’s pulse at his wrist. Serotina felt her mind separate from her body, float up and high above it, watching the futility of the scene below. Micah put his ear to August’s mouth, shook his shoulders, then fell onto August’s chest. “Goddamn, Auggie. Goddamn you!”

Sero sank down to the hay-covered floor and rocked back and forth. Something sharp and metallic glinted at her from beneath the shavings and she unearthed an old horseshoe nail. She clenched her fingers around it, then pulled its sharp metal tip across her forearm, slowly at first, then faster and harder until there was a series of crisscrossing red lines across the length of her inner arm: four, then sixteen, then sixty-four, and she lost count. A mixture of pain and relief flooded her body, her mind swirling with shame and guilt.

When she came back to herself, she realized it was silent outside. On hands and knees, she peered through the doorway. August’s unmoving body lay on the ground, but Micah was gone. Sero crawled out of the stable, over to her friend. Memories flashed through her mind: the floating spaceship, his arm underneath. This time would be different. She would stay calm. She placed two fingers on August’s wrist and closed her eyes, willing herself to feel a pulse. Was it there? She couldn’t tell. She switched to the other wrist and tried again. Her breath quickened. She placed her ear to August’s mouth to feel his breath, to his chest to listen. She felt a drumming in her ears. Sirens? She looked around; the night sky was dark. The only sound was music coming from the house, a furious drum riff. She reached to her back pocket, but of course her phone wasn’t there. She had to call for help—how could she call? The house was so far away, and she couldn’t leave August here all alone.