Page 162 of The Play

I rub my tear-streaked cheeks, then nod and reach for the door handle. “Thanks for being here, Daddy.”

“Always.”

42

DEMI

IFEEL LIKEI’VE RUN TWO MARATHONS AND GONE TO WARall in one night by the time Hunter and I walk through his front door later.

His team won the game, so everybody is out celebrating tonight. But we decided to bail on the after party, along with Summer and Fitz. And Brenna, who said she’d rather Skype with her boyfriend than “deal with a bunch of horny drunk boys slobbering all over her.”

The house is pitch black and dead silent as the entire group files inside.

“Okay, this is fucking creepy,” Brenna remarks.

“It doesn’t feel right when they’re not here,” Summer agrees.

“Who?” I ask. “Hollis and Rupi?”

“Yeah.” Summer vaguely waves a hand over the shadowy hallway. “Listen to it.”

I wrinkle my nose. “To what?”

“Exactly!”

As we enter the living room, the haunting, albeit tinny notes of a familiar song waft out of Brenna’s phone. It’s Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence.” I burst out laughing as she solemnly holds it up for all to hear.

She has a point, though. This is the quietest I’ve ever heard this house. “Where did they go, anyway?” I ask.

“No idea,” Hunter replies. “Hollis said it was a surprise.”

“A surprise for who?”

“For Rupi.”

“So then why couldn’t he tell the rest of you?” I counter.

“Because it was a surprise.”

I let out a sigh. “I don’t understand that guy.”

“Nobody does,” Brenna says frankly. “Don’t waste any more brain cells trying to.”

“Anyway, if you’ll excuse us,” Hunter announces, “Semi and I are heading up to bed. She’s had a tough night.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Summer says sympathetically. She and I aren’t super close, but she surprises me with a hug tight enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

“Thank you. It was terrifying, not gonna lie.”

“I hope your friend is going to be okay,” Fitz says gruffly.

“Me too.” I wonder what the shrinks at the hospital will make of TJ’s mental state. I think he’s suffering from depression, and he definitely has dangerously low feelings of self-worth. I hope whoever he talks to will provide him with the help and guidance he needs.

I’m sure the school or the police already contacted his family, and I’m planning on seeing him the moment he’s allowed visitors. TJ was always there for me when I needed to talk, when I needed someone to listen, and I plan on doing the same for him.

But tonight I don’t want to spend another second reliving what happened on that roof. Dad and I discussed it at length over a cup of coffee in my kitchen, and the pride shining in his eyes when I described talking TJ off the ledge made my heart clench with emotion. I hope he eventually accepts my decision to forgo medical school. Maybe one day he’ll be proud of that too.

I check my phone as we enter Hunter’s room. A million messages await me. Pippa, Corinne, Darius, Pax, my mom, and even one from Nico, who I unblocked after Christmas. It says he heard about TJ, he’s glad we’re both all right, and that I’m a very good friend. It’s asweet message, and I make a mental note to reply to him, and everyone else, tomorrow.

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