Braden’s response was instantaneous.We could do it at that first meeting.
Cy, two minutes later, responded.That’s a shitty idea. He won’t agree to rehab until he can admit he has a problem.
I typed,He KNOWS he has a problem but I don’t think he’ll do anything about it unless he knows we care.
This time, Cy’s reply was immediate.Do what you have to do but I won’t be a part of it.
Chickenshit.
Your choice.
So I switched to texting just to Braden.I’m good with bringing it up next week. Are you still in?
Yeah. We can’t just sit on the sidelines.
Agreed.
And that was our entire plan. I hoped Braden, like me, planned to speak from the heart—because that would be the only way we would be able to get through to Zack.
CHAPTER 2
The next morning, I sent a text message to our tour manager Mick Bauer. The man had seen Zack at his very worst throughout the tour, and I hoped that maybe his maturity and experience would give Zack a different perspective.
I asked him if he would mind being part of an intervention. Braden and I hadn’t yet worked out the details, but it would be helpful to know who was on board.
Unfortunately, Mick’s sentiments were similar to Cy’s:Hey, kid. Nice to hear from you. I hope you’re all getting some rest. And thanks for asking, but I’m gonna have to say no to that. Zack’s just sowing his wild oats. I’ve seen it a million times before.
There was a pause, but I saw that he was still typing—and, as much as I wanted to rail at him, I simply waited impatiently for the rest of his response.It was his first time on the road and he got a little out of control. Trust me—he’ll be better next time. I bet he’s already calmed down.
I didn’t know about that—but I’d purposely not spent much time around him upon returning, so I didn’t know forcertain. So I just typed,Okay, thanks, and left it at that. Mick responded by telling me to take care and said he hoped we could work together again.
At least his last sentiment warmed my heart—but it didn’t help with my overall problem.
So I sent Braden another text message, letting him know Mick was out.We should probably talk to his mom.
An hour later Braden responded.Yeah, but how do we do that without Zack around?
That’s a good question. Could we maybe text her and ask if we could meet with her alone?I asked.
Yeah, Braden said.Do you want me to do that?
But my mind was already whirling—and then it hit me.
Holy shit.
With just one realization, I almost thought it was no wonder Zack didn’t think we were good enough friends to share his sorrows with. And I had to ask Braden—because maybe it was just me.
Did you tell Zack happy birthday?
Jesus. No.
Me neither. I completely missed it.It had been in January—and we’d been on the third leg of the tour.I literally lost track of time.
Me too.
Braden was probably thinking we were shitty friends, just like I was—and Zack hadn’t bothered to remind us. Maybe he’d forgotten too? At that point, he’d become legally able to drink, so maybe hehadremembered—but as much as he’d been drinking, I doubted it. Had he already renewed his driver’s license? He must have done it while we were home for Christmas break before hitting the road again.
But I finished my thought.Well, I know this isn’t entirely true, but maybe we could tell his mom we want to talk about his birthday.
