Page 8 of Dead Boys Club

The words sink into Zach’s brain. Because, Zach reasons, he’s right. His mom would be happier—it’s not that she wouldn’t notice that he was gone. It’s that she would notice. She would notice every single way in which her life is suddenly better. She would notice not having to tiptoe around his feelings; she would notice not having to skip work to drive him to a psychiatrist appointment for new medication. She would notice when she was able to quit her warehouse job for something less awful, because she wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of him.

She would notice that things were better with him gone.

Parker keeps staring at him, his expression smoothing out to something more serious. “It’s easier if there’s two of us,” he says, sounding reasonable. “We can make sure we go through with it. And then neither of us has to do it alone.”

For a moment, Zach is back in the train yard. The sound of the birds in trees, the feel of the August morning warming up around him. He can still feel the crunch of the gravel under his feet. It was just him and the trains and the birds and the note in his hand. He’d been so astutely aware of how alone he was. What would it have been like if he was standing next to someone like Parker? If he had a hand holding him on the train tracks?

“I don’t know,” Zach says, voice weak. It is decidedly not a no, and Parker straightens his shoulders.

“I’ve been researching,” Parker says, digging into the pocket of his jean vest and producing a very cracked iPod Touch. “Except, I had to get really creative with the search terms. The search engine kept trying to give me a hotline number.”

“Maybe you should call it,” Zach reasons. Parker shoots him an annoyed look over the table.

Zach swallows as Parker unlocks the iPod and slides it across the table. It’s open to the Notes app. On the screen is a list of what can only be described as ways to die. There are pros and cons beneath each one. Zach’s vision starts to blur, going fuzzy around the edges. He stares down at the iPod until it goes dark. His breath starts coming faster, rattling through his closing throat. Parker reaches across the table and snatches his iPod back.

“Don’t freak out,” he sulks.

“I am,” Zach gasps. “I am, I’m freaking out, I’m sorry—”

“No, don’t—stop freaking out,” Parker snaps.

“I can’t—not here, okay; I really can’t do this.” Zach fumbles for his school bag, digging at the bottom for the emergency supply of Ativan. His hands are shaking so badly that he spills most of his books onto the ground as he tries to dig for it. When he finds the bottle and swallows one of the pills dry, he looks up again to find Parker is watching. His face is blank, and his mismatched eyes are lifeless, unamused by Zach’s theatrics.

“What is wrong with you?” Parker asks as Zach carefully puts all of his books back in his bag.

Zach laughs, the sound surprised out of him. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to, and it comes out slightly hysterical and terrified. “Um,” he says. “I think a list of what isn’t wrong with me might be shorter.”

Parker’s lips pull at the corner. “Me too.”

Zach’s appetite has long disappeared, so he packs his turkey sandwich away and shoves it back into the bottom of his school bag. Everything about this moment, this entire conversation, is surreal. Parker Reid is sitting across from him at lunch, trying to discuss the various ways they could… take their own lives. Together. Zach wills his thoughts away from the finality of such a decision, tries to ignore what it might mean if he entertained Parker’s plan.

It’s easier if there’s two of us.

The Ativan kicks in, and Zach feels the panic start to drip away. He rubs his palms over his knuckles, resting his hands in his lap. Parker’s plan gets easier to think about the more the medication starts working. Which is maybe the opposite of what’s supposed to happen?

“Do you want to like…” Parker makes a vague gesture in the air between them. “Meet up after school or something?”

Other than Isaac, who is obligated to hang out with him by virtue of being his neighbor, nobody has ever asked Zach to hang out after school. His mom would probably be over the moon if she knew. A new friend. Exactly like she’s wanted.

Except Parker only wants to hang out so they can figure out the best way to die.

“I—well, okay, yeah,” Zach says, blinking across the table at Parker. He can’t seem to sit still. Like maybe all of this stuff bothers him more than he’s willing to let on. Parker’s hands are moving restlessly, and the table rattles a little from where his long knees are jiggling beneath it. It’s like Parker is made up of television static, always moving. He keeps lifting his hands to tuck his hair behind his ears, but all his other twitchy movements make it so that it falls around his shoulders again.

“Cool,” Parker says.

He gets up then, without a goodbye, leaving Zach alone at the table.

Chapter Six

“Is he bothering you?”

Paige Reid’s voice sounds immediately distrusting. Zach looks up from his locker, shoving his weekend homework into his bag while Parker leans against the nearby wall, waiting for him. It’s weird. It’s so weird. Parker is waiting for him so they can walk to Zach’s house, because his mom won’t be home, so it will be easy for them to talk about Parker’s… suggestion. Zach hasn’t said yes to Parker’s insane plan, though, and he’s hoping maybe he can talk him out of it.

“Oh,” Zach says. He glances between the twins, then shakes his head. He closes his locker, hitching his backpack over his shoulders. “I mean—no, he’s not. Bothering me.”

Paige frowns, and Parker frowns back at her, and Zach picks nervously at the fraying edge of one of his backpack straps. It’s like he’s interrupting some weird twin telepathy.

“Tell Rebecca and Henry I’m going over to a friend’s house,” Parker says, finally.