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“Dr. Music. I like it.”
Now that he has me talking, the old me rises to the surface, eager to share something about my former self. “I have a crush on Trent Reznor. You know him?”
He cackles. “Yeah, we go way back.”
“Asshole,” I grumble, but not at all annoyed because the nerdy boy is quite beautiful to look at.
“I like his music, so yeah, I know him.”
“He’s a genius,” I explain, sitting up as familiar excitement burns through my veins. “He hears notes and makes sense of them like a scientist would data. He mixes formulas and tests the limits of sound. Every instrument is a tool for him to expand his learning. So he’s an artist, but he’s obsessed with the science of it. And that’s not even touching his lyrics.”
It makes me want to invite Kit over so he can meet my dad. I’d watched Dad’s love for music since before I could remember and was drawn to it, finding that love myself. I can almost see it. Kit in our living room as Dad plays chords on his guitar, chatting with us about the best albums of all time while Mom hovers, a smile on her lips.
My chest aches.
In the past, the other person was always Julian. Julian teasing Dad about his love for Nickelback just to get a rise out of him. Mom chiming in about Garth Brooks or Alan Jackson, making Dad and I both cringe.
The memories are cruel and the illusion of a future like them is even crueler.
Tomorrow won’t come.
All I have is today.
“You’re really passionate about it,” Kit says, “but it also makes you sad. Because of Julian?”
The name of my brother on his lips is jarring. Instant tears prickle at my eyes. I freeze, panicked by the onslaught of grief that attacks me from all directions. Emotions I’d been carefully shoving down into the dark holes of who I am come raging to the surface. I can’t hide them or hide from them. All I can do is remain still as they obliterate me.
Everything in the lunchroom blurs as the tears that flooded my summer come rushing back. I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I should have left already. My hand shoves down into my pocket and I grip the pill bottle. It rattles in my hand as my entire body shakes. The sourness in my stomach burns up my esophagus.
I want to go home.
I want to crawl into my twin bed and stare at the other twin bed, pretending my twin was still alive.
Fuck, I miss him so much.
An arm wraps around me, startling me. A curly-headed boy leans his head on my shoulder, providing warmth to my chilled, aching soul. I hate that a tear slips out where everyone can see.
No one looks.
My grief makes them feel awkward.
I’ve been so alone with it.
Until now.
“Do you take medicine?” Kit asks, his voice soft and soothing.
Another tear leaks out as I nod.
“Have you taken it today?” His fingers run up and down my arm. When I shake my head, he says, “Don’t you think you should?”
I was supposed to take them all.
Not one.
Thirty.
“I guess,” I choke out.
“Do it then.” His tone is firm, urging me on.
Shakily, I pull it out and the pills rattle. Kit’s fingers brush over mine as he takes it from me. Because he’s a nosy stalker, he reads the label. Then, he takes his arm from around me to open it. He hands me one.
Just one.
“Take your medicine,” he instructs. “And then tell me your favorite Nine Inch Nails album.”
I swallow down the pill, thoughts of music already chasing the dark sadness away for the moment. He hands me back the closed bottle and turns his head to look at me.
Too close, Kit.
Too close.
This close, I want to pull him to me and kiss him. In front of everyone. In front of all the kids who turn a blind eye to the boy who’s shattered beyond repair and has one foot out the door of this life. The same kids I grew up with going to birthday parties and school dances. Kids I had sleepovers with and camping trips.
I’m something they don’t understand now.
Something they fear.
Rather than loving me by default because of Julian, they’ve forgotten all about his steady shadow. I’m a figment to them. Barely existing. Casper, not Jasper.
Kit reaches up with his thumb, swiping away the tear that still clings to my jaw. He wipes it on my T-shirt, a teasing grin on his face. His touch warms and soothes me. I absolutely crave it.
The bell rings, breaking our spell. I’m not discouraged, though, because I know the very next class Kit will be there too. And the ones following after. After school, he’ll walk with me to my car and allow me to take him home. It’s like he’s replacing the dead, stagnant air around me with sunshine and apples.
