"How's he doing?" I have to force the question out and pretend it doesn't hurt like a bitch.
Chris shrugs. "Not good."
"He doesn't even look like himself anymore," Keegan says. "He's skinny and pale and he just sits there with his mouth hanging open and . . . What?" he asks when everyone turns to stare at him.
"A little delicacy?" Mason suggests.
Keegan lifts his palms. "What? It is what it is. No one here really thinks he's coming back from this. Am I wrong? Except maybe Mia, but she's inside."
"You're such an asshole," Mason mutters.
Chris takes a breath, and we exchange a look. Chris comes to stand at the grill by me. "Ignore K," he says, so only I can hear.
I swallow hard. "He's not saying anything I didn't know, right?"
Chris nods and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I still hate hearing it. Brogan was one of the good ones."
"The best," I say, and my voice cracks on the word best as if I'm going through puberty all over again. Fuck these regrets. If I could take back the things I said to him that night-if I could change everything . . .
"Don't do that," Chris says.
"What?"
"Don't paint him as a saint because of what happened. We all love him and what happened sucks, but don't beat yourself up for fighting with him that night. He cheated on Mia. He wasn't a saint." Chris's jaw is hard, and I get the impression he's been waiting awhile to have a chance to say that.
"My shrink wants me to visit," I admit. "I'm stuck in this fucking house all the time, but she got my probation officer to agree to let me go see Brogan."
"That's great," Chris says.
"I don't think I'm going to. I saw him in the hospital and visited a few times before the Barretts moved to Indy. The doc thinks I'm more likely to start using again if I don't resolve shit between me and Brogan." Grunting, I shake my head. "As if we can have a conversation or something."
"Mia thinks he knows what's going on around him, and from what I've read about PVS, I'm not sure, but . . ." He takes the spatula from my hand and flips the burgers before I burn them completely. "It's for you as much as him. You need to say your piece."
I lift a shoulder. "We'll see."
"His mom says hi," Chris says. He tilts his head. "She told me to tell you thank you, said you'd know why. Keegan overheard and made jokes all the way home that you probably tapped her. But I'm guessing you talked your dad into helping with some of Brogan's medical expenses after all. That was cool, man."
"It's just money. It's no big deal."
Chris grunts. "Yeah, maybe, but we all know how your dad is. I'm sure it wasn't easy talking him into that. What's he getting out of it?"
Shrugging, I adjust the flames on the grill. My dad's such a penny pincher, he wouldn't help another family with their medical bills even if he'd get the Nobel Peace Prize for it. All I did was convince my father to let me tap into my inheritance. The Barretts assumed I got the money from Dad, and I let them. My father thinks I sold him my soul to get that money early, but the joke's on him. It's not mine to sell.
"There's Mia," Chris says, and I snap my head up, thinking she's joined us on the patio. Instead, he looks toward the kitchen windows where Mia's standing with her head bowed, probably doing dishes. "I'm worried about her."
"Me too." I've been home almost a month, and she walks around like a robot. Katie's the only one who gets her rare smiles, and as far as I can tell she only leaves the house to see Brogan and check on her dad. She's not living. She's surviving.
"Bailey said she never goes out anymore, and she's not herself. I'm sure all this hasn't been easy on her, but since you two both live here, she thought you might know more." He studies me, and the questions in his eyes are more complicated than the ones coming out of his mouth. "You think she's okay?"
"I don't know," I say, but the truth is, I don't think she's okay at all. And it's eating at me every day.
"I wish she'd join us. Want me to go talk to her?"
I hand him the platter for the burgers and shake my head. "No. I've got this. You feed the savages; I'll talk to Mia."
"Good."
The inside of the house is like a different world. Cold to the hot, quiet to the loud. With the boys here, everything turns chaotic and messy out back, but in here everything is white and sterile. The inside of a tomb.
Mia's sitting at the kitchen table with a book, the wine glasses she just washed air-drying in the dish drain. She's in a short pink sundress that hides her curves but shows all that caramel skin of her long legs, and her bare feet are propped up on the chair beside her.
"Hey," I say softly, but she still jumps and looks up at me with wide eyes.
She puts her book down. "Do you guys need something? I didn't want to be in the way."
"We need you to come outside."
"To cook the food or-"
"To be with your friends."
"No thanks," she says, picking her book back up.
"Mia, Katie's not even here right now. You can take an hour off to talk to other people your age."
"No," she says without looking up.
I tear the book from her hands and want to rip it in half when I realize what it is. I Can Hear You: One Man Wakes From PVS and Shocks the World. "What is this shit?"
"It's called a book." She avoids my gaze and reaches to retrieve it.
I hold it out of her reach and skim the description on the back cover before turning back to her. "Is this what you're waiting for? You're just going to put your life on hold and wait in case he snaps out of it one day? Haven't they told you how it works?" I shake the book. "This isn't what happens. This was a fluke. Brogan isn't coming back."
She keeps her gaze cast on the floor, and even though I know I'm right, I wish she'd argue with me, scream at me for giving up on him, or yell at me for not believing in miracles. Something. Anything to prove to me that she isn't phoning in her life.
"You want this book back?" I ask, tucking it into the back of my pants.
"Yes, please."
"It's yours. All you have to do is stop ignoring the rest of the world and come outside."
She springs from the chair, eyes wide, hands on hips. "You don't own me, Arrow Woodison."
I almost fucking smile. It feels so good to get a rise out of her, to see the anger flicker in her eyes and tinge her cheeks pink. "I never said I did."
"Then leave me alone."
"I'd be happy to if you ever did anything but work and study."
"It's none of your business how I live my life."
I step forward, stalking toward her, but with each step I take, she takes one in reverse. "I don't care how you live your life. I only want you to live it, not hide from it."
Her back hits the wall and she lifts her eyes to mine, her mouth set in a stubborn line. "I'm not hiding from anything."
I take a final step, and her breasts brush my chest. Any closer, and her whole body would be pressed into mine. My mouth goes dry, and my nerve endings seem stretched to their limits as they ache for contact that isn't quite there. "You are. You're hiding from everything. From everyone. Brogan's gone, and you want him back. I get that. But you're here. Live your life, Mia." My voice trembles slightly on the words. Does she notice? Does she care?
"What life?" she whispers.
I want to kiss her, suck her bottom lip into my mouth and bite down until she feels the pain and pleasure of being flesh and blood. I want to take her upstairs and strip her, put my mouth to her most sensitive bits of flesh until she screams with life. "You didn't die that night."
She swallows. "No. Death would have been easier."
This time when the banging against my wall wakes me in the middle of the night, I know what it is.
I sit in the darkness for as long as I can stand it, but I can't just listen to his torment and do nothing, so I climb out of bed, grab the baby monitor, and pad softly into his room.
I don't know what I think I'm doing. Chances are, waking him up isn't going to go any better than it did last time. I slowly shut his door behind me and set the monitor on his dresser before walking over to his bed.
The curtains are parted, and a sliver of moonlight cuts across his face. His brow is damp, glistening with sweat, and his jaw is tight.
"Mia," he says. Or at least I think that's what he said. His head thrashes side to side, and my stomach tightens.