started to grow and I added some larger sticks. My fingers loosened up in the heat .
âSo, do you guys go camping every summer?â Beth held her hands out to warm them .
âNope. We only made it three days before my brother quit and my parents remembered that theyâre basically allergic to everything that lives outdoors.â I shrugged and pointed at the now roaring campfire. âAt least I got some use out of those classes.â
Beth passed me the bottle after taking a swig. âHandy skill to have. Iâm totally going to keep you around if thereâs a zombie apocalypse.â
I felt absurdly proud. I didnât know what it said about me that I wanted a brain-eating undead end-of-the-world event to happen just so Beth could find me useful and want me around .
Spending time with Beth was random. There never seemed to be any sort of plan; she would just show up at my house and ask if I wanted to go somewhere. If I invited her to do something, she would either say she was busy or invite Britney to join us. Time with her alone was on her terms or not at all .
I took a sip of the bourbon and tried not to spit it right back out. It was like liquid smoke, burning as it went down. Iâd had beer at a few parties, but bourbon was so different it didnât seem possible that they could both be in the alcohol family .
âThanks for coming with me. I had to get out of the house. My mom is in a fighting mood.â Beth tossed a stick in the blaze.I could tell it was too damp to burn well, but didnât stop her .
âDid you guys always have trouble getting along?â
âNo. Yes.â She laughed. âHowâs that for exact? We never got along as well as I did with my dad. I was a daddyâs girl. My brother was a total mommaâs boy. I think she resents me because she lost her half of the deal.â
The smoke from the fire was making my eyes water. I wanted to say something that would make it better, but I didnât have any idea what that would be .
âI know she wishes Iâd been the one to die instead of Lucas.â
Whatever Iâd been about to say turned to ash in my mouth. My heart winced .
âI canât blame her. You never met Lucas, but he was an amazing kid. He had this giggle that made you laugh, even at his stupid knock-knock jokes. And he was mischievous but insanely cuddly. The thing is that he died when he was really young, right? So he never had a chance to screw up. He never snuck out of the house or brought home a C in math. He never stole liquor from my parents or put a dent in the car. Heâs frozen at sort of this perfect stage, whereas I just keep on disappointing my parents over and over. I donât think Iâm that bad, but Iâll never be as good as he was, or as good as she imagines he would have been. Weâre sorta doomed.â
I wanted to reach over and hug Beth, fold her into my arms and keep her safe from anyone trying to hurt her. I shifted on the log, trying to figure out if it would be okay or just weird. She wasnât the superhuggy kind of friend likeBrit. Beth hardly ever touched me .
âThings are so bad I told my mom I thought our family should see someone. She told me there wasnât anything wrong with her.â
âI saw a psychiatrist for a while,â I said. The bourbon was burning a hole in the center of my chest. It was like the Iron Man power pack. I took another sip to buy some time. I didnât know why Iâd admitted that .
Beth nudged me with her elbow. âYou donât have to look like youâre confessing to murder. Itâs no big deal.â
âI get anxious,â I explained, just in case she was imagining something worse. Or something less. The tip of my shoe made a pattern in the sand. âI worry about stuff. Like if someone is late, I start thinking about how they might have been in an accident, and then I picture it. How the car would look
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