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couldn’t accept that he’d never walk in again and grab the issue of Sports Illustrated off his desk to read. I hated the…expectation of him in his room.
    Bear hadn’t helped tonight. In fact, he’d made it worse. If the funeral was any indication, I needed Chase.
    Everywhere I looked in Kyle’s room, I saw him. He was in Kyle’s football trophies, he was in Kyle’s yearbook they’d gotten off the shelf when he was home on leave, he was on this bed with us, talking and giggling till late in the night before my mom would come in furious and make him go home. She never liked how he hyped us up. She never liked how strong we were when he was around. We were impenetrable, the three of us.
    Did that make it worse that I couldn’t bring myself to hate him now? Or better? I wished Kyle were here to tell me. If the situation were reversed and I’d died instead, would Kyle hate him? Could Kyle hate him?
    I didn’t know.
    Dad returned around midnight or so. The car tires ground against the pebbles on the pavement, the house keys jingled and fell from his reckless grip. He swore, and then jammed the keys in the lock when he finally found the hole. His fancy shoes thudded across the kitchen floor, and then the sound disappeared on the hallway rug right outside Kyle’s room.
    He pounded on their bedroom door. When he didn’t get a reply he banged harder. Nothing. He choked, a raspy sound like an old person begging for life. When he spoke, his words slurred. “You can’t shut me out forever.”
    Her silence was deafening.
    His shoes thudded back down the hall, and the springs in the couch groaned with a metallic squeeze. My father would be spending yet another night in the living room. He’d slept there every night since I’d been home. The sleeping arrangements were something new. It hadn’t always been like this. It wasn’t even like this a month ago when I’d come home for the weekend.
    Movement caught my eye from the window. Chase. In his room. In his house.
    I gripped Kyle’s sheets and sat up. I’d forgotten how clearly you could see into his room at night with the lights on, like a beacon in the dark. When the three of us misbehaved, Kyle and I would get sent to our rooms and Chase back to his house. We never let it stop us from finding ways to communicate with one another, though. I’d eventually make my way over to Kyle’s room, where we’d grab the flashlights for Morse code, which never worked. We’d also had a pulley system where we’d clip notes to a long string that we worked in a circle to get our secret words from one house to the other.
    And if we were feeling particularly bold, we’d sneak over.
    Chase’s light went out. I walked to the window. It was unlocked, like normal, so I lifted the frame and dangled my leg outside. The coolness of the night bit at my bare feet, but I didn’t hesitate. I slipped out, closed the window behind me, walked the few yards to Chase’s, and tapped on the glass.
    Nothing for a few seconds. Then his face appeared above me.
    He lifted the window. “You look like hell, Kels.”
    I tried to smile and shook out my hair. “I feel like hell. And thank you. For noticing.”
    His eyebrows drew together. “What are you doing out here?” He peeked behind me like he expected to see someone else.
    I rubbed my arms. “I’m alone. Can I come in? Please?”
    He reached down and took my hand. As soon as I was inside, he shut the window and drew the curtains.
    I turned to him and noticed the cut muscles of his shoulders. His chest. His stomach. He looked like a man, not the scrawny boy from my memories. The one I kept imagining in my head.
    He picked a T-shirt off the ground and threw it over his head. “You could have used the front door. My mom’s not here.”
    “I wanted to use the window.” Clothes littered the floor of his room; magazines were left forgotten on his desk. Everything still looked the same. “Where is she, anyway?”
    “You know her. She’s off