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“Devin?” My name’s barely discernible over the ringing in my ears.
I swallow, my dry throat aching. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Shifting in my peripheral view, Nova leans in, her fingertips settling on my jaw and turning my face. “Is this… Is this about Damian?”
Her uneasy blue eyes have me closing mine, ignoring the sympathy I can’t take on. She doesn’t understand.
With a racing heart, I open my eyes and count the houses on the opposite side of the suburban drive, my gaze focusing on the modest cottage they made home seven years ago after moving from Grand Rapids the summer before sixth grade. Moths circle the solo glass globe hanging above the front door as visions of my childhood friend assault me. The tall, curly-headed brunette boy with two missing front teeth and bug-bitten lanky limbs.
“He was the first friend I made playing T-ball. We were five and rowdy as hell, but, man, did we love playing in those dirt fields. Our moms became friends while sitting on the bleachers, then eventually our dad’s met at Saturday games. It wasn’t long before we were going for pizza or burgers after games and practices. We were celebrating birthdays, having playdates.” Nova’s hand falls from my face as she sinks deeper into her seat, angling my way. “I was just a kid, so it’s not like I have a lot of concrete memories of those years, but I know I was happy.”
I blink as the front door blurs from staring at the light too long. “Then my dad left.”
With a sigh, I drop my head against the headrest. I was seven when Dad walked out. Damian’s parents unofficially adopted me during that time. We didn’t attend the same school, but to keep Mom from having to pay for after-school care when she was forced to take a job, Tara picked me up from school. She’d spoil us by getting kids’ meals and would bring me back to her house while Damian rode the bus home. Willa had her dance family. I had the Greens.
“Then Damian’s dad was killed in a gas station robbery. Wrong place, wrong time.”
Nova’s breath catches. “Oh my gosh, Dev.”
I wrench my stare from Tara’s house and look at her. “Life sucks sometimes, doesn’t it?”
“So. Much,” she murmurs, and I don’t have to wonder if she means it or not. She’s shared her family’s tragedies.
“We were there for Tara and Damian the same as they were there for us, but I guess the loss wasn’t the same. My dad didn’t want us anymore. Mr. Green was taken away. They…”
Struggled.
My stomach rolls with the vague memories of those months after his death. All the days and nights. Hours I spent at that house while Tara fell apart and Damian retreated into a sullen boy who rarely smiled. “I shouldn’t have been there.”
Nova’s brow wrinkles. “Where?”
“At Damian’s house. It was a sad place, and I never told my mom how much being there scared me.” My head swings back to Tara’s house. To the shadows circling the light illuminating her white front door. To the glow bleeding through the curtains in the first window right of the door. “There are…things, Nova. Things that happened. I never remembered those days, never thought about them, until Damian died. They moved when we were eleven.” The past is jumbled and confusing, my recollection hazy. Lost behind years of happiness with Mom and Willa. The years after my best friend moved.
Clearing my throat, I sit straighter. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“Don’t you dare apologize. If there’s something you need to talk about, I’m here, Dev. We can sit here all night if you want.”
Glancing at Nova, I blink, taking in her sympathetic, convictive stare. “That’s not necessary. It’s just…” I rake a hand through my hair. “Gah, I told my mom I didn’t want to stop here.”
“And we don’t have to. We can keep driving. Or we can find a hotel.” Her hand takes hold of the gear shift, readying to switch intoDrive. “There’s nothing that states you have to pay respects after a death.”
I place my hand over hers, stopping her. “No. I have to do this. For Damian.”
Her gaze drops to her lap as she uses her thigh to shift the charm bracelet on her left wrist. “You said he took his life?”
“In May, yeah.”
Silence.
“Dev?” Nova flips the hand locked beneath mine, interlocking our fingers. “She’s probably deep in her grief, and while seeing you might hurt, it could also help.”
That’s what Mom keeps saying. What Willa said. But they don’t know the whole story. They don’t know what I have stashed in my backpack. I shudder even thinking about it.
“You’re scared to go in there, aren’t you?” Another shiver rolls up my spine at Nova’s soft question, and she unbuckles her seatbelt, climbing over the console and making the tight fit to straddle my lap. “Hey, look at me.” My hands land on her hips as she takes my face in her palms. “This is your decision, Dev. We can knock on that door or leave. Whatever you want. I’m Team Devin all the way.”
“It’s not that Iwantto, but I need to see her.”
Her hands slide behind my neck as she nods. “Okay, we’ll go in, but I’m telling you now, if being here is too much, if you want to leave, you just give me a signal, and I’ll make up an excuse.”
