Page 140 of String Boys

Kelly stared at him, his brain shorting out. His brother was dying. Hisbrother was dying.And Seth was in the hospital. And there was a baby in the carrier in his hand.

“Craig!” he called as Seth’s father rounded the corner from the carport. “Craig, stay right here and make sure my useless fucking brother doesn’t go anywhere.” He glared at Matty. “We arenotthrough with you!”

And then he ran up the stairs to give the baby to his mom. He stopped, halfway up, and called out to Matty. “Hey, asshole! What’s this blond baby’s name?”

And Matty, the fucker, completely sealed his goddamned fate. “Xavier,” he said. “Javi, after Dad.”

“I fucking hate you.”

And he finished the run before Matty could reply.

Linda opened the door to Kelly and the car carrier and the bag of diapers with the same expression on her face that Kelly knew he must have had.

They knew.

They both knew what this meant.

He told her that Matty needed a doctor, and since he and Craig were on their way anyway, could he please have a towel or a sheet or something so his useless fucking brother didn’t bleed or piss all over Craig’s car?

She handed him the items fairly quickly, finishing up just when the baby started to cry. She sighed and bent down to free him from the car carrier, her entire body going limp as she picked him up.

“Oh, baby… this is not your fucking fault.”

Kelly swallowed. “Mom….” Freedom. He’d been so close to freedom.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call your sisters to bring home some formula and some diapers. Go. Take care of Matty. Make sure Seth’s okay.”

“Mom?”

She shook her head and looked away. “Later,mijo.We’ll have this discussion later. When I can think and my heart isn’t breaking. Later.”

Kelly tried not to slam the door as he trotted back out into the balmy spring night.

It didn’t matter. Every clatter of his feet on the steps sounded like a prison door, slamming shut on all of Kelly’s dreams.

Broken Hearts and Broken Strings

ONE MINUTE,Seth’s life was golden.

He’d landed on time, the Lyft was speeding along toward Sacramento, and dammit, he was going to make Agnes’s play on time.

In half an hour, he’d be sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair in a shitty school cafeteria with cracked tile and a splintering wooden stage, watching Kelly’s sister be the star of the show. He’d have Chloe on his lap and Kelly to his side, and they’d be touching, together, and the money from his last film soundtrack recording session with New York would be hitting the bank.

Sure, Gianni Pesci, the conductor from Italy, was in New York now, and he wanted Seth back to play for him again, but Seth had told him, repeatedly, that San Francisco was his home.

Or Sacramento.

Or a shitty high school, where he could give young people the same gift he’d been given.

He didn’t care.

Kelly was waiting for him. His family was waiting for him. He wanted to go home.

He didn’t see the semi until it was almost on top of them. The Lyft driver swerved hard, saving both their lives, and dove off the road toward the vacant field. He couldn’t see the metal fence posts in his hurry, and Seth certainly didn’t expect one of them to rip through the front of the car like butter, but suddenly the car was flipping and the world went to hell.

HE WASN’Tsure how long he was in or out, but he knew his leg was on fire, and then he was drugged, and his leg and hip still hurt like a motherfucker, but the drugs at least kept him from caring. His head didn’t feel so awesome either.

His father was sitting next to his bed, looking older than Seth had seen him look since, well, since he’d started sleeping with Kelly’s mom.