Page 43

chapter sixteen

“Love is stupid. I hate it almost as much as I love it. Because it makes men irrational, it makes them — crazy. Almost like a perpetual drunkenness has taken over their body. Swear, I look drunk at least 98% of the time, and I blame my Becca, but have you seen her? Who wouldn’t wear a dopey smile? Now, look in the mirror. If you look sober, you aren’t in love. See? How hard was that? Now you know, kiddo!”

~From Max Emory’s Guide to Dating and Other Important Life Lessons

Jason

“If I get fired, I’m killing you in your sleep. I’m not kidding, man. I’ll even smile doing it,” I warned Max.

He just gave me a blank stare and said, “Your threat is empty, just like your soul.” He ended it with a hiccup then pounded his chest. “Shit, I think I’m still drunk.”

“You’re swaying.” Reid poked him with the lighter.

Max grabbed onto the side of the house to steady himself for a couple minutes. Colt finally appeared from the front door, backpack in hand.

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that?”

“Your old backpack.”

“No shit. Why do you have it?”

“You’re reliving all the things, and during this time,” Max announced, “you had a blue backpack, and in that blue backpack…”

“Yeah, I know...” my gut clenched, “…I kept candy, twenty-four seven, because the girl I loved was so damn sweet.” God, I was an idiot. No wonder she left me. Did I really say shit like that? Out loud? To another human? It’s a miracle I ever got laid!

“Blesses—” Max burped and pounded his chest, “—my heart.”

I fanned my hand in his face. “Rum and broken promises, that’s what you smell like.”

“Thanks, man.” He patted me on the shoulder while Colt handed me the backpack. “All right, day one of ‘find your heart and stop thinking with your dick’ has officially started. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

I started sweating immediately.

I walked up to her door with a stupid blue backpack, wearing jeans and a t-shirt like I had all through high school, and knew what I was about to subject myself to.

Last night it had sounded good.

So had a hotdog.

I should have chosen the hotdog and gone to bed. Damn it!

I knocked once, twice, and was about to knock a third time, when the door swung open and little Annabelle stared up at me with wide blue eyes. “You’re tall.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, well, you’re short.”

She gasped. “That’s not nice.”

“Why not?” I leaned down until I was hunched on the ground at eye-level. “Being short’s the best. You can sneak in places tall, bulky people like me can’t. I bet you’re the best at hide and seek, would probably beat me every time.”

She smiled so big and bright, I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. Her toothless grin was so trusting, so innocent.

Damnit, Sara, what happened to you?I wished I could say I was surprised, but the drug problems in this country were no joke, and it could happen to anyone, even straight-A students with full rides to NYU.

“I am the best at hide and seek!” she confirmed, jolting my thoughts away from Sara. “Everyone says so.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Papa, Grandma, Aunt Maddy.”