Chapter 2
TYRELL
I weave my way back to the table, knowing I’ll be facing a plethora of questions the second my ass touches the chair. Thankfully, only Wily and Satch are still at the table, but that doesn’t last long.
Within a minute of taking a seat, the pool game is abandoned, and I’m surrounded by six sets of curious eyes. Shit… I’m gonna have to say something.
“An old friend from high school.” I point over my shoulder, hoping that’s enough of an explanation… but knowing it’s not.
Sienna grins. “She’s cute.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”
“More like a sister?” Satch asks.
“Yeah?” I hitch my shoulder, but I’ll never think about Dani the way I think about my kid sister, Lacey.
“Was that supposed to be a question?” Nylah laughs at me. “You’re not sure how you feel about her?”
I groan and tip my head back. “It’s complicated, you guys.”
“You seemed pretty happy to talk to her.” Nylah wiggles her eyebrows at me while Carson swings his arm across the back of her chair and eyes me up, quietly demanding an explanation.
They’re not going to let this go, and there’s only one thing I can do to shut this conversation up.
“She dated my best friend in high school. We hung out a lot, so I know her, and she’s awesome. But it’s not like that between us. It never will be. She was my best friend’s girl.”
“You just said was.” Sienna points at me, and I internally cringe, realizing that none of the women at this table know, because I made the guys promise never to breathe a word.
They know better than to talk about Atlas.
When I first lost him, I was a wreck.
They kept me afloat. Stopped me from dropping out of college, leaving football for good. They offered me a place in Football Frat—anything to keep me grounded. And once I’d processed the worst of my grief, they knew better than to bring him up again.
But I have to mention him tonight.
It’s the only way to shut down this inquisition.
Clearing my throat, I dart a glance at Zander, whose expression tells me he already knows what I’m about to spill. “He died.”
I say it simply, because that’s the only way to do it.
“In my sophomore year at college, he—” I swallow. “He died.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Satch reaches across the table, resting her hand on my forearm and giving it a squeeze. “That must have been awful.”
“It was.” I nod. “Devastating.”
“For her too, I’m guessing.” Nylah gazes across the crowded room, obviously looking for Dani behind the bar.
“Yeah.” I can’t help looking for her too. “Broke her up pretty bad.”
“Was she with him when he died?” Why Sienna would ask that, I have no idea, but she’s right on the money, and I can’t picture Atlas’s pale, dead face right now.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pinch the bridge of my nose and rise from my seat. “I’m gonna head home.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” Sienna rushes out.
I open my eyes in time to see her guilt-ridden expression and quickly shake my head.
“It’s all good,” I assure her, forcing myself to smile.
But it’s not good.
It’s heavy and painful and… I need to get the fuck out of here.
“We can give you a ride.”
“No, I…” Shaking my head, I step away from the table, pushing in my chair and glancing around at my buddies.
They know.
They saw me fall apart.
They heard the harrowing recount.
“I’m gonna walk.”
“’Kay, man.” Carson nods, not needing anything more from me.
I take my cue and make a beeline for the exit.
I can’t look back and try to spot Dani one last time. I’m suddenly wrecked all over again, and I just need to walk this shit off.
The others are no doubt talking about me, explaining to their girls how we were down in Denver for the weekend…
It was an end-of-season game, and we won.
Just. It’d been a tough fight, but we’d hung on to that last play, and damn if Grady didn’t find the perfect gap and punch right through it.
He got a touchdown with eight seconds left in the fourth quarter, and we came away victorious.
The coaches were pumped, the team was beyond ecstatic, and I lost track of time as we celebrated the win.
I’d arranged with the coaches to leave right after the game so I could drive to Colorado Springs and watch my best friend’s band play.
They’d even let me drive down from Nolan so I could have my own car.
I was kind of bummed out that I couldn’t go on the bus, but a few of the offensive linemen jumped in with me, and we drove down together.
It was nice of the coaches and team to accommodate me this way.
Atlas knew I was gonna be late, but I’d promised him I’d be there for the final set and the after-party.
But I got busy jumping around a locker room and singing stupid songs.
I got busy laughing and whooping with my football team.
I was having way too much fun to notice the time, and when Grady finally asked me if I was supposed to be somewhere else, I felt a rush of disappointment.
I didn’t want to leave my team to go to the concert, but I’d promised Atlas.
I hadn’t seen him in over a month. Football season was busy, and it’d been getting really hard to fit in visits with him and Dani…
and my family. Last time, Atlas had come up to hang with me, but it’d been kind of awkward.
Our lives, which used to be so cohesive and in sync, were starting to splinter.
He was getting heavy into the punk rock world, and football was becoming king for me.
But he was still my best friend.
And so I left the football celebrations. Admittedly, I was dragging my feet, and by the time I got into my car, I was running over an hour late.
I’d missed his final set, and he’d no doubt be pissed about it. I spent the drive south formulating a decent apology, hoping he’d get how epic this win was and how much it meant to me.
The after-party was happening above the bar they performed in, and I got through without too many problems. Had to have one small argument with a bouncer who couldn’t find my name on the list to start with.
At first, I thought Atlas had scrubbed it because he was pissed off that I hadn’t made it.
But then the bouncer checked again, and I was finally let through.
I was nearly two hours later than I said I’d be, and I did feel bad about that… and it was made a million times worse the second I wove my way into the crowd and heard the screaming.
A jolt ran through my body, my blood turning to ice when I heard a woman wail, “Wake up! Atlas! Wake! Up!”
“Dani,” I whispered, shoving my way through the crowd as fear wrapped its bony fingers around my neck and started to squeeze.
I punched through the crowd gathering in the hallway, wrestling past bodies until I reached the bathroom.
The door was ajar, and I shoved it open the second I spotted Dani on her knees, Atlas’s floppy head resting in her lap.
She was tapping his face, sobbing and shaking him, but he was unresponsive.
He was dead.
I knew it the second I looked at those lifeless eyes, gazing up at the ceiling… and seeing nothing.
His skin was so pale, his lips blue, and I knew. In my gut, I knew he was gone, but I still shoved my way into the cramped space.
“Call 9-1-1!” I shouted, hoping someone would as I checked Atlas’s vitals and pulled him onto the floor.
I didn’t know much about first aid, but we’d learned CPR in high school PE class, and I attempted to revive my friend while Dani stayed on the floor beside me, sobbing and whimpering into her hands.
“He’s dead,” she kept saying, rocking back and forth and crying.
It fucking killed me.
But I couldn’t stop trying to revive him.
When the paramedics arrived, my body was aching from the effort. They gently moved me aside, calmly asking me questions I could barely answer.
They tried the defibrillator. It didn’t work, so they loaded him onto a stretcher, rushing him out to the ambulance, where they would no doubt try to revive him again.
It wouldn’t work. I knew it in my crushed soul.
So instead of running after them, I flopped onto my ass, my back slumping against the wall, a numb chill sweeping through my body.
Someone rushed in and coaxed Dani to her feet.
I think it was her sister.
They followed Atlas’s body out of the place, but I stayed on that bathroom floor, staring at the wall, everything turning to a white, hot blur.
I can’t really remember much else after that.
Shoving my hands into my jeans pockets, I hunch my shoulders against the spring breeze and walk the familiar path back to Football Frat.
My brain did a pretty good job of blocking out the harrowing days following that night. There was the funeral. Atlas’s dad came back for it. He sat in that front pew and quietly cried, couldn’t say a damn word to anybody.
He’d left the family a month after Atlas’s fourteenth birthday. Had some kind of mental breakdown and skipped town. He was useless at keeping in touch, and it’d hurt Atlas pretty bad. In fact, I don’t know if my friend ever really got over it.
Is that why he got into drugs?
Or was it because of the band life? Those guys knew how to party.
During our high school days, I was there to keep an eye on him.
But then I left for Nolan, and Dani stepped up.
She was always glued to his side. She was his girl, his agent, his manager.
She sought out gigs for the band, then made sure they got there on time.
She’d walk miles posting flyers and telling people to come see them play.
She’d argue with venue owners until they’d capitulate and supply the band with everything they needed to be successful.
She’d help with setup and make sure the sound was as perfect as it could be.
She was there for every single show.
She’d watch from the side of the stage or just in front, singing along and dancing. She was Atlas’s biggest cheerleader… and when I left, she had to become his protector too.
She had a way of coaxing him into leaving places when things got too intense. She could pull a joint from between his lips and throw it away when no one else could. She could tell him “No more shots,” distracting him with kisses.
Atlas did anything for Dani.
But not that night.
I never found out exactly what happened.
Dani was a wreck at the funeral, and I couldn’t talk to her, because I was a wreck too.
My best friend had overdosed… and I hadn’t been there to stop him.
He got reckless and made a mistake. Atlas’s mom told me that the autopsy report came back indicating that her son’s poor body had been riddled with a blend of fentanyl-laced drugs and alcohol. He never stood a chance.
But he would have if I’d been there.
She didn’t say it, but I knew she was thinking it.
I’d always been the guy to keep him safe. But then I moved to Nolan, abandoned him just the way his daddy had.
Mom told me that was bullshit when I let it slip.
“You didn’t do anything wrong by taking a great scholarship to a great school. And you kept in touch with Atlas. You are nothing like that boy’s father. Nothing!”
She’d gotten all riled up, and Dad had to calm her down.
I just stood there, not believing a fucking word.
I’d told Atlas I’d be there.
And I wasn’t.
And now he’s dead.