Before I even step up to the desk, Brenda is on the phone whispering something into the receiver.
Calm down, Vic. You can do this.
“I need to see my dad,” I tell her, stating the obvious as I try to stop my hands and voice from shaking.
She gives me a fake disappointed look. “I’m sorry, Victor. He’s in a meeting and doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“It’s an emergency,” I tell her. “Please. Tell him it’s an emergency.”
She picks up the phone again. “He says it’s an emergency,” she whispers into the receiver. She covers the mouthpiece with her palm. “He wants to know what kind of emergency. He says to be specific.”
“I can’t.”
She puts the phone back in its cradle. “He says he’ll see you at home, after he leav—”
Before she can finish her sentence, I rush past the reception area and the security guard even as I hear their protests behind me.
I enter my father’s huge corner office without knocking. Four guys, all in pristine suits, are sitting around a long table.
As soon as mi papá sees me, he frowns. “Excuse me,” he tells the other men. “I’ll be just a second.”
He doesn’t introduce me as his son, but I don’t care. I follow him out of the room and into the hallway. He’s got a stern, pissed-off look on his face.
“I… I… need you,” I say, desperation laced in my voice.
He sighs. “What now?”
The words start to flow out of my mouth. “It’s Trey. We were doin’ drills at practice and somethin’ bad happened. Papá, I need help. I don’t know what to do.”
He regards me with the look of someone annoyed and bothered. “Victor, I’m in a meeting. I’m not surprised you did something bad. I’m tired of bailing you out. Deal with it and stop bothering me at work, something you wouldn’t know how to do because you’re too busy fucking up. Whatever you did, man up and fix it.”
“I can’t fix it.”
He rolls his eyes. “Then you’re useless.”
I stare at his back as he retreats to his office and practically slams the door in my face.
Reality is kicking my ass right now and I can’t deal with it. I need to escape, to pretend I don’t exist.
I run to Enrique’s Auto Body. Isa follows me up to her apartment.
“Can I stay here a while?” I ask as I sit on her couch and put my head in my hands.
“Of course. What’s going on?” she asks.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Want me to leave you alone?”
I nod.
When she’s gone, I gather up the nerve to call Monika. Her phone rings and my pulse starts to race.
“Hello?” she answers, her voice weak.
“It’s Vic,” I tell her. “How’s Trey?”
I hear a bunch of other voices. I can tell by the muffled sounds that the phone is being passed around.
“Vic, tell me where you are,” Jet’s voice echoes through the line. He sounds like he’s been crying. “Everyone is looking for you.”
“I’m fine. Tell everyone to stop looking for me. How’s Trey?”
“Tell me where you are.”
“No. How’s Trey?”
There’s a long pause.
“He didn’t make it,” he finally says. “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t think my mind could get to a darker place, but it just did.
My best friend is dead.
And it’s all because of me.
Chapter Twenty-six
MONIKA
The news about Trey’s death spreads like wildfire in our small town. Since I got home from the hospital last night, my phone hasn’t stopped buzzing with texts and calls. Most of them are comments asking how I’m doing and confirming that the school board chose to postpone the homecoming game and dance. I eventually turn off my cell and toss it across the room. It’s almost noon, and I haven’t picked it up.
I don’t want to talk to anyone.
I don’t want to be around anyone.
I want everyone to stop reminding me that Trey is gone. Maybe if people stop talking about it, that’ll mean it was a really big mistake. While part of me wants to believe that fantasy, I know Trey’s never coming back.
My gaze turns toward my new blue dress still on the hanger with the price tags dangling from it. Last year we doubled with Cassidy and Vic for homecoming. With a lot of convincing, we even got Vic to get on the dance floor. We were all having a great time until Cassidy got drunk and puked all over Vic’s car. Wherever Vic was, Trey was never far behind. Wherever Trey was, Vic was never far behind.
We all shared crazy times together.
Now they’re just memories.
My mom, who’s been checking in on me every couple of hours, peeks her head inside my room. “How are you holding up, sweetie?” she asks.
I’m lying in my bed, staring out my window at nothing. My eyes are open, but my mind is a big mess. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“No.” Talking about it makes it more real. I don’t want to deal with reality right now. I don’t even know if I should tell people we broke up. I feel like that would taint his memory.
“Would you want to talk to a professional?”
My heart starts to race. I remember the time Victor told me that the social worker at school called him into her office and tried to get him to talk about why he seemed so angry all the time. When he refused, she called him into her office four more times before she gave up.