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“Needed fresh air.”

I try to meet his eyes, but they’re firmly fixed on his plate as he stabs a couple of chips. He’s lying. He walked out just as Richard said⁠—

Oh, no.

“Was it about your ma and Jamie?” I ask carefully.

Noah’s head snaps up, and his eyes finally meet mine, cold as a winter storm. “Shut up, Rob.”

Pieces of Noah slot together in an all-too-familiar pattern, and I’m annoyed with myself for not noticing it sooner. Mood swings, erratic behaviour, distancing himself from Richard⁠—

Nightmares.

Shit. Richard told me in uni he was glad to finally have a bed to himself because Noah had been sharing a bed with him since their brother died.

Just like he does with Bailey.

Just like he does with me …

He’s still doing it?

“Noah, you can talk to me about it, I know about losing⁠—”

“No.” He slams his fork down, and it clatters on the plate. “Just because I let you shove your cock in me doesn’t give you the right to stick anything else where it doesn’t belong. Go fuck yourself.”

“Noah …”

He abandons the rest of his food and storms out of the room. His outburst almost parallels the argument we had nine years ago. I didn’t realise at the time how deep Noah was in his grief—how deep he still is.

“Noah!” I call after him.

A door upstairs slams.

Well done, Rob.

NOAH - EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

Frost nips at my ankles as I walk down the quiet row of houses. My shoulders ache and my head feels stuffed with cotton wool from lack of sleep.

It’s been three months since I started university, and I can’t remember my nightmares ever being this bad. I’m drained. Way past the point of exhaustion. My hands are numb, and I don’t think it’s just from the winter chill—they’ve been like this for days. Migraines too, and not being able to eat without feeling sick.

I close my eyes briefly as I continue to walk alone in the dark. My hand moves up to the locket around my neck, squeezing the small golden heart tightly. I take a deep breath, but nothing slows my erratic heartbeat. My free hand slips into my pocket and I pull out my phone, my thumb shaking as it hovers over Bailey’s name.

No.

You can’t keep calling him in the middle of the night.

He has his own life.

He’ll be starting work in four hours.

I put the phone away and carry on walking aimlessly. Despite the cold wind, my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I’m eighteen, and I can’t survive university without my best friend. Can’t even survive the night without sharing a bed with him. I swipe aggressively at my eyes, trying to ignore the voice in my head telling me to drop out of uni and just go home.

As I turn the corner, the sound of bass thumping fills the silence. Like a ghost in the night, I drift towards it until I come to a lone house at the end of the street. There are a bunch of cars parked outside, and lights in the back garden flicker against the night sky. The bass is so loud that it’s vibrating uncomfortably in my chest, but my feet carry me through the side gate anyway.

Groups of people are dotted around a large garden, some whispering, some yelling, all of them drinking. Exhaustion has left a hazy film over my eyes, and I can’t focus on anyone to see if I know them. Most of the houses in this area are uni accommodation, so I’m assuming they’re students. They don’t seem bothered I’ve walked into their space. In fact, they ignore me completely as I wander the perimeter of the garden.

I stop by a table full of drinks and stare at the bottles. I’ve never liked drinking. Never liked how it made my head feel strange or the way my body felt like I was being rocked on a boat. But I haven’t slept properly in months … Maybe this will help.