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Flanked by Layla and Kurt, we file into the auditorium, which is

full to the brim with kids.

“Are you okay?” Layla asks, crossing her fingers with mine.

“No.” I hate the way the swim team is looking at me. The day I

left for the Vanishing Cove, we had our final meet. We wouldn’t have

swum, not without Ryan, but I’m their captain. Was their captain. “I

shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, you should.”

For a second, Angelo stares at me with that way he has, like he

can’t decide if he’s going to deck you in the face or shake your hand.

Then again, Angelo doesn’t shake hands. Everything about him-his messy

button-down, the gelled hair that feels like a helmet to the touch-is

comforting. No matter what, he’ll never change who he is to the core.

Then he grins and pulls me into a man-hug.

“Can you believe Principal Quinn asked me to give a speech?”

Angelo holds out his fist and I bump it.

Principal Quinn finishes setting up the microphone. Angelo puts on

his game face. The real concentrated kind he reserves for meets or

when he’s on lifeguard duty. People can say a lot about Angelo: he’s a

player; he probably stole your lunch money at least once in first

grade; he chews with his mouth open; and he doesn’t stop to think

about what he wants to say. But when it comes to being your friend,

he’s your friend for life.

“Uhh, I don’t really need an introduction,” he says into the mic

as he loosens his tie from the knot his mother probably redid three

times. “We’re here to talk about Ryan Morehouse. I met Ryan freshman

year. He was this dorky little thing. I-I made him buy me lunch

sometimes because I knew he was so happy to have a friend, you know?

One time, I went out with this girl he liked. I sort of knew he liked

her, but he still didn’t turn on me like Tristan.”

I sink down in my seat. “I’m pretty sure it was the other way

around.”

“Don’t worry you’re still my boy, T.” He pounds his fist on his

chest, then points to me so that everyone turns to snigger.

Angelo’s voice trembles and I realize he needs to make fun of

something; otherwise he won’t get through it. “Anyway. Ryan still

helped me with my homework because he knew I wasn’t so good. All week

I’ve tried to replay that night in my head. I try to put myself in a

different location. Maybe if I wasn’t so busy trying to protect a

stranger, I could’ve had his back. Maybe-who knows, right? All I know

is we were a team, and Ryan was always on our side.

“We used to call him Wonder Ryan, ’cause you know, he was so

vanilla. All nice and proper and stuff. But now, we should still call

him that because he risked his life, like a superhero.

“I make a promise to my friend, right here and now. I never knew

what I wanted to do with my life. Now I know. Maybe I’ll be a cop like

my brothers, maybe those cool FBI guys. I just know I’ll make sure

that what happened to Ryan doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

The auditorium cheers. One after another, they go up there and

talk about him. How awesome he was. How cool. How nice. How cute. I

refuse to go up because I know I’d get up there and say one thing:

“I’m sorry.”

Coach Bellini gets up and accepts the Triborough trophy. The other

team forfeited before we could. Four boys from their team went

missing, and only one washed up on the New Jersey side of the river.

The other three are still out there. Coach reminds us to be safe this

summer and to come back stronger next year.

Layla squeezes my knee. “I can’t go up, either.”

“Can you believe it?” I say. “Angelo with a gun.”

“Hey, everyone has a calling.” She turns to me and kisses my

cheek.

Angelo hops right off the stage and lands in front of us. He

flicks an accusing finger between our faces. “Layla, did you hit your

head or something?”

I get up and pull him into a fake headlock, our way of greeting

each other every swim practice. The gathering is breaking up. School

is over but open to those returning books and studying for state

tests. Not me, though, because, in my heart, I know I can’t come back

here.

“I got a surprise.” Angelo pulls off his tie and hooks it around

my neck. “Quinn’s leaving for some board meeting. Bellini gave me the

keys to the field. As long as we don’t do anything crazy.”

“Define ‘crazy,’” I counter.

“All I’m saying is, it wouldn’t be a proper good-bye without some

fireworks.”

The sun is a white disk behind the gray overcast sky.

Angelo sets off a line of firecrackers right in the middle of the

football field.

I sit in a circle closer to the track with Layla, Kurt, and some

of the boys from the team. Some of the guys remember Kurt’s speed

during a practice session a few days ago and grill him on how he does

it.

I down a water bottle in a second and take a moment to enjoy this.

Layla sitting between my legs with her head against my chest. My hand

is over hers, fingers crossing. I lean forward and kiss the back of

her head.

And then she asks, “How was your date with Sarabell?”

I stutter.

“Did she take you down to where all the fish is happy ?”

“No. How can you even-” I may as well be choking on my tongue.

“You know that I’m not-I wouldn’t-”

Jerry runs past us, screaming at the top of his lungs. He and

Angelo have matching red welts all over their arms from throwing snap

pops at each other.

“She didn’t tell me anything. Then I tried to stop her from eating

a couple, and she bit me.” I hold out my arm for her to see.

“That’s from the fox boy!”

I hold my arms side by side. “I told you about the juiced-up

water.”

“You’re right.” She pats my knee and gets up. “I have to go to the

bathroom.”

I get up to follow her, but Kurt grabs my wrist. “About what you

said this morning. You were right.”

“I was?” I should ask for that in writing.

“We’ve had different lives, you and I.” He glances around the

field at the chaos my friends are bringing to the summer day. “Perhaps

that’s why it’s easier for you to see the things I cannot.”

“I think that you’re trying to say you agree with me about

Eternity being a location.”

“In your manner of speaking, yes.”

“Good.” I pat him on the back.

“We’ll need Princess Gwenivere for the next part.”

Then Bertie plops down beside us. “Yo, T, where’ve you been?”

Angelo and Jerry stop running and join us.

“Family stuff,” I say, trying my best to act cool, but I think

I’ve forgotten how.

Angelo smacks my back extra hard. “What I want to know is how the

hell did you get Layla to go out with you?”

“You’re the man, Tristan,” Jerry says. “Total upgrade.”

Bertie goes, “Yeah, T, you’re so cool now.”

“Too bad it’s a downgrade for her,” Angelo presses his hand to his

chest, and the guys bust out laughing. Even Kurt McTraitor.

They look at me like puppies wagging their tails. “Well?”

I dump the rest of my water bottle on them. “I’m not talking about

that.”

“ Ohhhhhhhh .”

“ Not even PG details ?”

“ I think he’s serious this time .”

“Don’t listen to them.” Angelo pats my shoulder, even though he’s

the one who wants at least PG details. “I don’t blame you. That’s a

serious girl. If you hurt her, I will mess you up with a capital

MESS.”

“Word,” they chime in.

I hold my hands up defensively. “Aren’t you the one who bought a

‘Bros Before Hoes’ T-shirt for my birthday last year?”