But I couldn’t stop trying to revive him.
When the paramedics arrived, my body was aching from the effort. They gently moved me aside, calmly asking me questions I could barely answer.
They tried the defibrillator. It didn’t work, so they loaded him onto a stretcher, rushing him out to the ambulance, where they would no doubt try to revive him again.
It wouldn’t work. I knew it in my crushed soul.
So instead of running after them, I flopped onto my ass, my back slumping against the wall, a numb chill sweeping through my body.
Someone rushed in and coaxed Dani to her feet.
I think it was her sister.
They followed Atlas’s body out of the place, but I stayed on that bathroom floor, staring at the wall, everything turning to a white, hot blur.
I can’t really remember much else after that.
Shoving my hands into my jeans pockets, I hunch my shoulders against the spring breeze and walk the familiar path back to Football Frat.
My brain did a pretty good job of blocking out the harrowing days following that night. There was the funeral. Atlas’s dad came back for it. He sat in that front pew and quietly cried, couldn’t say a damn word to anybody.
He’d left the family a month after Atlas’s fourteenth birthday. Had some kind of mental breakdown and skipped town. He was useless at keeping in touch, and it’d hurt Atlas pretty bad. In fact, I don’t know if my friend ever really got over it.
Is that why he got into drugs?
Or was it because of the band life? Those guys knew how to party.
During our high school days, I was there to keep an eye on him.
But then I left for Nolan, and Dani stepped up. She was always glued to his side. She was his girl, his agent, his manager. She sought out gigs for the band, then made sure they got there on time. She’d walk miles posting flyers and telling people to come see them play. She’d argue with venue owners until they’d capitulate and supply the band with everything they needed to be successful. She’d help with setup and make sure the sound was as perfect as it could be.
She was there for every single show.
She’d watch from the side of the stage or just in front, singing along and dancing. She was Atlas’s biggest cheerleader… and when I left, she had to become his protector too.
She had a way of coaxing him into leaving places when things got too intense. She could pull a joint from between his lips and throw it away when no one else could. She could tell him “No more shots,” distracting him with kisses.
Atlas did anything for Dani.
But not that night.
I never found out exactly what happened.
Dani was a wreck at the funeral, and I couldn’t talk to her, because I was a wreck too.
My best friend had overdosed… and I hadn’t been there to stop him.
He got reckless and made a mistake. Atlas’s mom told me that the autopsy report came back indicating that her son’s poor body had been riddled with a blend of fentanyl-laced drugs and alcohol. He never stood a chance.
But he would have if I’d been there.
She didn’t say it, but I knew she was thinking it.
I’d always been the guy to keep him safe. But then I moved to Nolan, abandoned him just the way his daddy had.
Mom told me that was bullshit when I let it slip.
“You didn’t do anything wrong by taking a great scholarship to a great school. And you kept in touch with Atlas. You are nothing like that boy’s father. Nothing!”
