Page 11

11

JASON

SEPTEMBER

As August gave way to September, I settled into a new routine. Temperatures slid into a more reasonable range, making my runs more bearable. Though, these days, I’d found a couple of new running routes that didn’t take me around the lake. Running the lake path didn’t feel right without Zach by my side.

A lot of things didn’t feel right with him gone, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it, so I tried not to think about it much.

We texted nearly every day. I’d never been much of a phone person—my mom had often complained about my tendency to forget it when I left the house—but I’d found myself attached to it more than ever these days. And when I felt that little vibration in my pocket, I couldn’t help but smile.

Sometimes, they were innocuous little messages, and other times, I could tell he was in a more pensive mood. Whatever the topic, I’d fumble the phone out of my pocket and happily type out a reply.

Mixed in with the texts from Zach were the occasional messages from Will. He was struggling. I could feel it in his texts and social media posts. I’d made an Instagram after everyone left so I could keep in touch, and since he’d left for Purdue, Will’s feed had been full of selfies with various men, often with one or both of them holding drinks. I could see in his eyes that he was unhappy, and he looked like he’d lost some weight.

I tried to text him and offer support, but each time, he brushed me off, insisting he was fine. I didn’t believe him for a second, but I was helpless to do anything from so far away.

“Hey, can you give me a ride to dance?” Mandy stood in my doorway, dressed in a sports bra and leggings, with a sparkly backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Sure. What time do you need to be there?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Cutting it close, don’t you think?” I stood, searching for the tennis shoes I’d kicked off as soon as I’d gotten home from class.

“Don’t start. Mom was supposed to take me, but she just texted that she got stuck at the train crossing and is going to be late.”

I tugged my shoes on, grabbed my keys, wallet, and ball cap, and walked toward her. “That damn train is off schedule at least once a week.”

We climbed into my truck, and I started the engine while she buckled her seat belt. Once we were on our way, I asked her how school was going.

“It’s alright. We’re reading Of Mice and Men in English, which is okay, I guess, but we have to take notes in a specific format, which is really dumb because it’s not that hard of a book. Biology is easy so far. Mr. Davidson doesn’t give a ton of homework, and when he does, I mostly get it done in class, so that’s okay. I don’t know. It’s all the usual school stuff. Probably not that different than it was for you.”

“You’re probably right. When’s homecoming? You have a date?”

“It’s like a month away. I’ll probably go with Drea and some other girls from the dance team.”

“How’s Drea doing with Zach being gone?”

“She acts like everything’s fine, but I think she’s sad.”

I glanced at her quickly before returning my eyes to the road. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. I mean, sometimes she gets really quiet for no reason, or she just, like, doesn’t text me back for a whole evening. But then I see her at school the next day and she’s fine.”

“How do you know it’s because of Zach?”

“I don’t, I guess. I just figured that’s what it was because I’d probably feel the same if it was you.”

We pulled up to a stop sign, and noting there wasn’t a car behind me, I turned to look at her. “Seriously?”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, yeah. You’re my brother.”

“That’s really…”

“God. Don’t make a whole thing about it. Just drive. We’re going to be late.”

I checked the road before proceeding through the intersection. “I love you too, sis.”

“Ugh. Don’t be all weird.”

I laughed. “I’m not being weird.”

“Whatever. How’s your EMT thing going?”

“It’s fine.” I shrugged. I liked the coursework and found most of it interesting, but I wasn’t sure she wanted to hear all the details.

“That’s it? ‘It’s fine?’”

“Yeah. What else do you want me to say?”

“What types of things do you learn about?”

“We learned a bunch of medical terminology, and now we’re learning about trauma response.”

“Ew. Like blood and stuff?”

I laughed again. “Yeah, some. Treating patients with shock. Stabilizing accident victims until they can get to a hospital. Stuff like that.”

I pulled into a parking space in front of the dance studio and turned to look at her, surprised when she didn’t hop out right away. A glance at the clock on the dash told me she was already nearly five minutes late.

“That’s really cool,” she said, eyes wide, like she was just seeing me for the first time. “I mean, I think it’s really cool that you want to do something like that.”

“Thanks.” I ducked my head, both pleased and embarrassed by the compliment. “You should probably get going.” I nodded toward the studio. “You’re already late.”

“Yeah.” She looked at me a moment longer, then grabbed her bag and hopped out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride,” she called out just before she closed the door and jogged into the studio.