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The grief I feel for my brother is a chasm. Sometimes it seems like he’s been gone forever, and sometimes it’s like he was just here yesterday. The anger can still supersede the pain, but other times, pain and emptiness are all I feel. We had a good life. Nate had good friends. Sophomores and juniors in high school, they were always at parties on the weekends, drinking, smoking, and hooking up. The night of the accident, they were all hanging out at Caleb’s house. I know Lev wasn’t there, and I know that still eats him up, but it’s not his fault at all, and I don’t blame him for the accident or what led up to it. My parents were pretty upset with Caleb’s parents after it happened, but they decided that there was enough heartache amongst us and Nate and Caleb’s friends that they didn’t pursue anything legally. Plus, we wanted to grieve, and that would have just prolonged everything.

Instinctively, I swipe a tear that has fallen out of the outer corner of my eye. I grab the knob to control my seat and lift, bringing my seat upright again. Then I reach up with both hands to wipe my eyes. The eye that was injured in the fight is much better now. There’s still a bruise, but it doesn’t ache all the time. My knuckles are scabbed over and less swollen, and the bruise on my side still hurts and is still discolored. That one will definitely take longer to heal.

I laugh at the ridiculousness of that night, and then I shift as I realize I’m starting to get hard, thinking about the kiss with Lev.

Jesus.

I’m at the inlet “with” Nate. I should not be thinking about his best friend like that. I move my eyes upward and shift again.

“Sorry, man,” I say out loud.

I take a deep breath and adjust myself in my pants. All the thoughts in my head start to pour out of my mouth, along with my tears as I talk to my brother.

“Nate . . . what the heck am I doing? I mean, Lev? I’m all messed up in the head over this! God, I wish you were here to talk about this for real. But then you might kick my ass. No, you’d kick his ass.” I chuckle to myself. “I . . . I think I like him, and I’m so sorry, man. So, so sorry. You know I had a crush on him, right? You had to know . . . and if you didn’t, well, SURPRISE!” I chuckle again. “But dude, I think I have feelings for him, and that’s—that’s really messed up, right? I can’t like him.”

I push my head back into the headrest and close my eyes.

“I don’t feel like I can, Nate. How can I—how could he and I do anything or have anything with you gone? I don’t want to have these feelings for him. Believe me. It’s weird, but I don’t feel like I deserve anything with Lev when you should be here and be the one spending time with him and consuming his life. He’s your friend. You deserve to be spending time with him. But . . . here’s the thing, Nate. I feel something when I’m spending time with him. He makes me happy. And then I feel guilty. It’s all just so fucked up.”

I sit in silence for a little while, thinking. Nate was a great guy. He was the best. He deserves to still be here and be making a life with his friends and family. I shouldn’t be moving in on that life. I shouldn’t. It just feels so wrong.

I grab my phone and the bag of pretzels and stay for another hour, eating, scrolling on social media, and listening to music. As dusk sets and the day turns fully into night, I say goodbye to my brother and head home.

***

Friday night comes fast, thankfully, and I head over to the indoor mini golf course to meet up with Ryan. Katie’s having a girls’ night with her friends, so it’s just Ryan and me, and I’m looking forward to hanging out and playing some golf. My signature torn black jeans and black T-shirt, which says “Please don’t make me do stuff” in gray writing, are enough to keep me warm, since the temperature in these places is always too high, and I’ve topped off my look with my silver skull chain and freshly painted black nails. I look good and feel good about it.

Ryan has already ordered a pitcher of beer and some appetizers by the time I arrive. We eat and drink, intending to get a slight buzz before we start playing. While we’re eating, Ryan gives my plate a shove.

“So, what’s up with you and Lev?” he asks.

I shrug, pretending that I don’t know what he’s talking about.

He continues, not convinced. “Don’t give me that shit. I know something’s happening, and I want to know what!”

I shake my head. “Nothing good is going to come of this conversation, Ryan.” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Humor me, Dare.” He has a smirk on his face, and I know my best friend. If I don’t give him some sort of answer right now, he’s going to keep hounding me until I do.

“Honestly, nothing right now.”

He makes a face at me.

“I’m serious!” I insist. “We hung out a few times. He took me home from the bar the night of the fight because Garrett called him. We kissed.”

He interrupts me, booming, “YOU KISSED HIM!?” A few people look our way. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, putting his finger over his lips in a silencing motion. “You kissed him?” he says again, much quieter this time.

“Or maybe he kissed me,” I joke. “But yeah. We kissed. And maybe a little bit more.”

“What the fuck!?” he says, a boisterous laugh coming out of his chest as he smacks his hand on the table. “You didn’t tell me before now??” An older couple at the table beside us huffs and grabs their check, getting up to walk away.

Ryan shakes his head as I mouth a “sorry” to them.

“I’m your best friend, and you didn’t tell me that you have something going on with the guy you clearly have a crush on!?”

I’m smiling with little control of my face. The energy Ryan is putting out is the main reason he’s one of my favorite people.

“Is it that obvious that I have a crush?” I can feel myself blushing. “But yeah,” I answer, trying to be nonchalant. “He took me for a ride on his motorcycle, and we ended up at the lake. We were chilling on the dock, and we started making out. Next thing I know, he’s—”