Page 63 of A Disaster in Three Acts

He really does need the headset. I bat away the guilt filling my gut and scream at it: I’M WORKING ON IT.

“We could playLorenzoif you wanted to shake things up,” Holden offers. I wonder if he’ll ever see that game the same way after I totally flubbed his win.

“I don’t want to get you kicked out again,” Trevor says confidently.

“Crying or screaming?” Ant asks.

“Both,” Trevor says.

If it weren’t for the precautions, for the sickly, off-white hospital walls around us, I wouldn’t know anything was up. Sure, Trevor looks a bit ill, but other than that, this is an older brother getting taunted by his little brother and his friend. We could be in the Michaelses’ basement—Holden’s new room—and throwing pizza rolls at each other and I wouldn’t think twice about it. This must be one of Trevor’s better days.

“I did not cry. I really had something in my eye.” I can tell by his squint that he’s smiling. “Seriously.”

“Hedidhave Libby flush his eyes, so maybe he’s telling the truth,” Trevor says.

“Or he’s just selling the lie,” I add. “Libby seems like she wouldn’t care either way.”

“Don’t help them harass me,” Holden says, lightly pushing me.

“Fine. Maybetheycan helpmeharass you.”

“What did you have in mind?” Trevor asks, fluffing his pillow.

“Honestly, anything would be more entertaining than rewatching our YouTube history for the four hundredth time,” Ant says.

“I don’t know if Holden told you,” I say, pulling my camera out of my bag, “but I’m making a documentary about him.”

“About Holden?” Trevor points at Holden. “This Holden? Holden Michaels?”

“Why?” Ant asks, her face scrunched up.

“He’s just, you know, sointeresting,” I joke.

Trevor narrows his eyes. “Lying liar.”

It’s not until he says it that I remember where I even got the stupid phrase from. I got it from a child—this child. That tracks.

Holden’s jaw drops. “Iaminteresting.”

“Notthatinteresting. Few people are.” Trevor crosses his arms. “What do you need from us?”

“I’ll interview you guys. Just ask questions about him and stuff.” Since the headset is going to be a surprise, I have to tiptoe around interviewing Trevor about himself.

Trevor straightens, instantly looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”

Ant grabs his foot through the blanket. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not really feeling up for that.” He kind of cringes. “I’m sorry.”

“Trev,” I say lightly, “that’s totally cool. You don’t have to do it at all if you don’t want to.”

It does pose a problem, though. I know I told Holden that it was cool to leave Trevor out, but the documentary would be seriously lacking in substance—and it might not even make sense. It definitely would lack that tearjerker moment I’mhoping for at the end: Holden delivering the headset to Trevor and Trevor seeing all the hard work his brother put into it for him. Getting into the contest, nearly losing,me losing, and then trying to make this perfect experience. Everyone needs to play their roles precisely how I need them.

He seems to relax a little. Holden, on the other hand, looks tense. I can already hear his voice telling me that I’m pushing Trevor too far—and I haven’t even tried to push him yet.

“Ant?” I ask, looking at her.

“I’m down.” She glances at Trevor. “Is that okay?”

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