“What if?” Rain asked, stressing the question. “They attacked people who were evacuating. There were groups that kidnapped people on the absolute worst day in history, raided them. What if it turns out they hurt people Kenzie cares about? Sveta—do you know what they say about people like Sveta? What I’ve said about people like Sveta?”

“I know what they’ve said about people like me,” Tristan said, setting his jaw. “What you’ve probably said about people like me.”

Rain flinched, breaking eye contact.

“Look at me, say it, and I’ll tell you it’s okay. Because you’re working on it. You’re better.”

“I think you’re really underestimating how little I want to face that side of me, that said those things. Or how little progress I’ve made from being a sack of shit.”

“Look me in the eye,” Tristan said. “Say something like, ‘hey Tristan, I used to be the kind of guy who’d call you a faggot or look down on you because you really like the dick.’”

“C’mon, man,” Rain said, cringing.

“Then you say you’re sorry, and I say it’s not a problem, I figured as much, and I reaffirm that you’re a friend. Really easy script. Then you say it to Sveta. We’ve talked about so much shit, we’ve worked through so much. You have to know we can be cool with this. All of us.”

“I know,” Rain said. “I get it. Fuck. But—”

He was interrupted as Tristan’s watch started beeping.

“Fuck,” Tristan said.

“—But I don’t want you to be cool with it. I’m not cool with this,” Rain finished.

“I gotta change.”

“Yeah.”

“Look after Rain for me, Byron,” Tristan said, then blurred.

Byron wore a long-sleeved, slate-blue shirt with a snake on the front, and jeans.

“I’m going to go,” Rain said.

“What are you going to do?” Byron asked.

“Hide. Figure things out. Think.”

“Okay,” Byron said. “I think all three of those things sound pretty reasonable.”

“Can you tell the others? Fill them in?”

“I think if Tristan is saying no, I should say no too. Especially when I’m not part of the group.”

Rain sighed.

“Go. Hide. Think. Spend time with that ridiculously awesome friend of yours,” Byron said.

Rain allowed himself a small smile.

“Maybe call Mrs. Yamada.”

“Maybe.”

“Seems like a big enough emergency to give her a call.”

Rain nodded. It helped, knowing he could do that.

It helped, hearing Byron calmly lay things out, agree that it was right to get away and get safe. Tristan understood a lot of the other stuff, the fighting, the struggle, the—even trying to come back from being a scumbag. But Byron understood other things.

“Thank you,” he said, without even really realizing he’d intended to say it.

“You have allies,” Byron said. “Friends. Me included.”