Stumbling past the loveseat from my bedroom in the upstairs hallway, I make it to the front and open the door to a grinning Jansen, new piercings scattered across his face. I yank him inside. “What the hell, man?”
“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” he says.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m taking you out! Your birthday’s on Monday, and that’s not going to work. I know you’re going to spend the actual day moping, so I figured we could get a jump on the celebrations this year.”
“Jansen…”
“Trust me. I’ve got it covered. Is RJ upstairs?”
“You didn’t text or call either of us?”
He shakes his head, bouncing up the stairs, leaving me no choice but to follow him. “I wanted it to be a surprise so you couldn’t talk me out of this.”
“At least you know I would have tried,” I mumble, as he knocks on RJ’s door.
RJ opens it, and the look on his face must reflect my own. “Jay, you shouldn’t be here,” he says, his voice gravelly from not talking.
“I have a plan. We’re going out tonight. It’s Walker’s birthday, at least, almost, and we’ve had shit-all to celebrate for a while. So, we’re spending one night pretending things are normal.”
“There’s no Clara. It’s not normal,” I say.
He deflates at my words. “I know that. We all know that. But that doesn’t mean we’re dead. She’s suffering, yeah, but we can’t fix that. And torturing ourselves doesn’t help her or us. We’re here. We’re free to go where we want, when we want. And best of all, we’re all still gloriously alive, sucking in oxygen and everything. If that isn’t worth a celebration, I don’t know what would be.”
RJ looks at me, and I know we’re going out. Even if I’m definitely the wet rag tonight. “Okay. Fine. What kind of clothes?”
Jansen looks down at his all-black getup. “Whatever. It’s not going to be fancy.”
“Then let’s go,” RJ says, locking his room while I do the same.
The night is a whirlwind of strangers and acquaintances collected by Jansen as our cover and stops at every museum within walking distance, coupled with snacks and dinner at a collection of hole-in-the-wall restaurants he found. Emma joins us for part of the night, as do a few of my classmates from my major, Jansen somehow seeking them out and inviting them to the walking tour of art and food. The rest of thecrowd was made up of people from the other guys’ freshman dorm, Jansen’s classes, and even a few people RJ worked with at the dojo.
It’s almost fun.
Almost.
Which is more than I’d thought I’d get, so at the end of the night, I thank him. He looks like I gave him a trophy with the praise, reminding me of how happy he’d get when Clara told him he’d done a good job. He disappears a few blocks before RJ and I make it back to the house, our tail not even trying to hide, assuming we’re drunk, I guess.
RJ glances back as we go around the last corner. “It’s only one tail.”
“Yeah. Tonight.”
“No, always. It’s a PI that Papa Westerhouse hired. He doesn’t have enough guards to keep two posted on both of us 24-7. He just paid the guy yesterday, and I saw the invoice.”
“Do we want to do something about it?”
RJ sighs. “I don’t know. Also, I found out more on Trips’ brother. I should probably meet Reed and give him what I’ve got.”
We step onto the porch and a blob unfolds from the corner, both of us falling into defensive stances. But as it steps forward, it turns into the man we’d just been talking about.
“Shit,” I mutter, while RJ steps to the other side of the porch, not really relaxing.
“Sorry. I thought I’d wait for a bit. It looks like I fell asleep out here.”
“You slept on our porch on a Saturday night? You’re lucky some drunk frat boy didn’t piss on you,” I say, leaning next to the door, waiting to see what the cop does.
He stretches, yawning. “It’s been one hell of a week. That’d just be the icing on the cake.”
