“What’s going on in here?” Jonah asks from the doorway.
“Family meeting,” I say, whirling around. “I was just leaving.” I bump past Otter, who reaches out to grab me, but I knock his hands away. Jonah is leaning against the door frame, looking calm and collected. And he still has a smile on his face. Before I know what I’m doing, my fist cocks back, and I let my arm fly and smash my knuckles into his nose. He squawks as blood flies from my fingertips, and I push by him. He’s not smiling now. Bastard.
The music thumpthumpthumps as I storm down the hall, ignoring th
e looks I’m getting, ignoring the stinging pain in my hand. I hear my name called. I hear people rushing after me. I almost trip down the stairs, knocking drunken revelers left and right. Someone’s drink goes flying. People must see the look on my face, see the entourage racing after me, because they part, and I’m like Moses leading the Jews, and they all get the fuck out of my way. I’m out into the yard again. My car is still running, the lights still on. I get in, but of course, the front of the car is facing the doorway and people are crowding out. Otter, Anna, and Creed are in the front. I see Jonah’s blood on Otter’s shirt. I wonder if Otter hugged him to get it on his shoulder like that. Did he tell him that everything was going to be all right? Is that what he said?
They’re all shouting something, but I don’t care. I throw my car into reverse and bounce over the curb again. Somehow, I don’t hit anyone or anything. I look up and see Otter moving toward me so I floor it and get the fuck out of there.
But even I can’t resist: I look in my rearview mirror and see Otter tearing after me, sprinting down the dark street.
I go faster.
MINUTES later, my phone vibrates. A missed call from Creed. I have one new message and one saved message. Creed’s message is from before I arrived at the party. “Hey, dude, don’t kill yourself trying to get over here. Anna thinks I may have freaked out too much. Besides, I think one of his friends just showed up. I don’t know who. I told him where Otter’s room was but that he had to make it quick because you were on your way and that it was kind of important that you speak to him as soon as possible. If I don’t see you when you get here, just know that I will be around. Always.”
THE second message is one that I have saved for weeks. It’s Otter, and he simply says, “I love you.”
I PARK somewhere. I don’t know where. I pull out my phone and call Mrs. Paquinn. They haven’t gotten to her yet.
“How’d it go, dear?” she asks excitedly.
“Fine,” I say brightly. Too bright, but she doesn’t notice. “Is the Kid okay?”
“He’s fine. Still asleep. Hasn’t woken up since you left.”
“I don’t know if I am going to make it home tonight,” I say evenly. “Is it okay if Tyson crashes with you? I’ll be home early, hopefully before he wakes up.”
She laughs. “Of course. If he gets up before you are here, I’ll let him know where you’re at and have him call you.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice wavering.
She hears it. “Bear, is everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” I hear her phone click.
“Bear, I’ve got another call coming in, but I don’t know who that would be at this hour. You have fun tonight, okay? Be careful and give Otter my love.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I hang up the phone and let the waves crash over me.
MOMENTS later, I look up. I hear the ocean, and I know that it’s not just in my head. I get out of the car and moan softly as, in my infinite wisdom under the duress of a psychological breakdown, I see that I’ve driven myself to the beach. Our beach. The one where I had first told Otter that I loved him. It’s after midnight, so there’s no one here. I’m alone. I don’t have anywhere else to go, so I guess it doesn’t matter.
I take off my shoes and walk into the sand, feeling it part and shift beneath my feet. The tide is in, and I see that where I had set up my little table, my little surprise for Otter, is completely under water. The cool water laps at my feet, and I sit down at the edge, feeling the salt against my ankles.
My phone rings. Otter. Ignore.
My phone rings. Creed. Ignore.
My phone rings. Anna. Ignore.
Mrs. Paquinn. Otter. Otter. Creed. Anna. Otter. It rings again and again.
I want to shut it off, but I can’t. Not if Tyson needs me.
So I shut myself off.
I lay back into the sand, the crest of the waves whispering at my back. I feel like I’m floating. The moon is bright and the stars are cold, ice chips waiting for the world to stop spinning. But it feels okay, drifting like this. It wants to speak, to tell me that I overreacted, that I had no right to behave the way I did. I push it away, and it floats out to sea. It’s better not to have to think right now.
My phone beeps. Message. Messages.