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I never know what these people are going to say. “You stole a truck when you were fourteen?”

“Well, he left it running right out on main street,” Muriel says.

“That doesn’t mean you can steal something!”

“We were fourteen. And stupid,” Wilson says.

“And a little tipsy,” Leo says.

“Jesus,” I mutter. “And the cop was following you, so you bailed out?”

“Worse,” Muriel says. “The guy we stole the truck from was following us.”

“You could have been killed! And didn’t the truck crash? And if he was right behind you, didn’t the guy see you anyway?”

“Well, we were kind of just rolling along,” Leo says. “Muriel couldn’t reach the pedal to really give it gas.”

“And we were headed for the park, so we just let it coast into the park, and it slowed down on the rise through the mud, and the guy was able to jump into it and stop it,” she says, as if I should have just assumed that outcome.

“And then we ran back to Harley’s house and locked the doors, and the guy had to face Harley’s dad when he banged on the front door,” Wilson says. “And then it was he said-we said. Four of us against him and his friend. And they were drunk too. Harley’s dad called the cop and the guy got hauled in for drunk driving.”

They’re all laughing now at the memory.

I just shake my head.

“The point is,” Wilson says when they quiet a bit. “Brewser will be the first to tell you that sometimes you end up falling and hitting your head, but if you were having fun getting there, it’s worth it.”

I take a big breath.

That’s…not a terrible point.

“And he won’t want to stop having fun just because his chances of falling might have increased,” Patty says.

I nod. My sister would say the same. “Got it,” I tell them, my voice scratchy.

They all smile like they’re proud of me.

Just then Sutton steps back into the waiting room. She comes straight for me, and I feel another of the tight bands around my chest loosen.

She takes the chair next to me, and I immediately reach for her hand. I don’t care who’s looking on.

We’re in a hospital waiting room. For someone we love.

This is the last place either of us ever wants to be, but having her beside me definitely makes it better. I run my thumb over the back of her knuckles.

“This sucks,” she says softly.

“Yeah. It does. But I’m glad I’m here with you,” I tell her.

“Yeah. Same.”

“This is going to happen again,” I say. “Probably a few times.” And not just with Brewser.

She nods. “For sure it is. That’s life, right?”

We both know that all too well.

I look at her. “Yeah. And I need you to know that I want you to be beside me every time”