Chapter 2
The night before Tanner left for college, the Quinn house felt wrong.
It had been almost a month since the state finals—long enough that school had let out, long enough that on the good days, with the sun beating down, I could go a few hours without replaying that last out.
Never enough to forget it, though. But the game wasn’t what was wrong with tonight.
The entire building had been Gavinified—way too bright and energetic, as if the house itself needed to overcompensate for Tanner leaving.
Mrs. Quinn cooked Tanner’s favorite dinner; I saw Mr. Quinn slip him cash, and even Zach didn’t shut up, which was so out of character I asked him if he was feeling okay.
It was only late June, but summer classes started on Monday, and Tanner, being who he was, made sure he started school as soon as he could.
The Quinns, being who they were, rented Tanner an apartment on campus even though they only lived twenty minutes away.
Apparently, they wanted him to have “a life outside where he’d grown up. ”
Must have been lovely to have money.
Tanner’s suitcase sat half-zipped near the front door, lazily leaning against the wall. I’d lost count of how many times my eyes snagged on that suitcase. Same drop in my gut every time.
I knew people left. Mom had died. Dad had been arrested for domestic abuse. But Tanner leaving felt different, even though I’d only known him for a year.
Today reminded me of the end of a movie after you got to know the characters for ninety minutes, and then—poof—they were gone. And I wasn’t sure I was supposed to be here when the title credits rolled.
I stood near the entryway, my Nikes next to my feet. I could slip out without anyone noticing. They had this whole “night-before-school” family tradition with movies, popcorn, and blankets piled everywhere that I had been a part of last year. But last year, Tanner had been staying, and I’d been—
I had no clue who I’d been then. Or who I was now. A guest? A charity case?
“Why are you by the door?”
Gavin’s words snapped me back into the living room, with the humming TV and fridge in the background.
He stood near the kitchen door, holding a bowl of popcorn bigger than his face.
He was shirtless and wearing bright pink pajama pants, his skinny chest finally starting to get that summer tan, his blond hair covered by a Cardinals hat.
He squinted at me suspiciously, like a detective clocking a lie.
“I was just—” I started.
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but your ugly face did.” He marched over, shoved the popcorn into my chest, and forced me to hold it, making it impossible for me to pick up my shoes.
“We can go to the basement now; everyone’s almost ready.
” He picked up my shoes himself and put as much distance between us as he could, laughing.
“I have to—”
He spun around, yelling upstairs, “TANNER! EASTON’S TRYING TO LEAVE!”
Fantastic. The little gremlin never stopped.
A thunk and a groan came from above, then Tanner appeared at the top of the stairs, his bushy blonde hair damp from a shower, wearing a wrinkled T-shirt I thought I’d seen him pack two hours ago. His eyes flicked to me, locking in. He didn’t say a word. Just waited.
I smiled at him, the best way I knew to make him stop arguing with me through his eyes.
Zach emerged from the kitchen, grinning with a bag of Skittles in his hands.
Where Gavin was Tanner’s mini-me, Zach more closely resembled Mr. Quinn—darker hair, the strongest person in the room, and a jaw that could take a punch but live to tell the tale.
“Seriously, dude? You’re going to bail on movie night? ”
“I wasn’t bailing,” I muttered. “I just didn’t want to intrude on Tanner’s last night.”
Gavin stopped halfway across the room and twisted toward me. “Intrude on what? You’re always here. Tanner’s moving, like, a block away; we’ll see him in two days.”
“But still,” I said, my hands flexing.
“Besides,” Zach said, tossing pieces of candy in his mouth, “I picked out the perfect movie for us to watch.”
“And what’s that?” I said.
“It’s called The Final Season. It’s about a high school baseball team that actually wins the state title. Figured we could live through them.”
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Tanner said, throwing the comb he was holding over the banister at Zach.
“I will kill you,” I said, flashes of the game circling my brain.
Zach scampered out of the room, avoiding the slew of insults we threw at him. Zach had been on the team, but he had gotten over the loss much quicker than we had. I’d apologized to Tanner multiple times since the game, and he’d kept telling me it wasn’t my fault.
I wasn’t sure I believed him. If I were Tanner, the person who made the last out would be scum for life to me.
“Stop thinking about the game,” Tanner said, grabbing my shoulder, and every nerve in my arm stood at attention. “Let’s go fuck Zach up.”
And just like that, the three of them circled me again—no grand gestures, not saying anything too big, just not letting me spin out of their orbit.
I followed Tanner into the basement, Gavin’s giggles leading the way. Zach sat on the loveseat, and Gavin jumped into one of the movie theater chairs; pieces of popcorn fell over the top of the bowl as he settled.
“You want some Skittles, East?” Zach said, holding the bag out to me as Tanner dimmed the lights. I grabbed a couple; the stickiness against my fingers was my least favorite part of Zach’s favorite candy.
“Easton,” Gavin said, pointing to the couch. “You and Tanner can have the couch tonight.”
I sat on the far end, and Tanner settled against a cushion facing me. He made eye contact with me again as I cuddled with my pillow, looking ready to make a confession the night before he left.
Gavin, unable to stop moving, shattered the moment by jumping to his feet. He went behind the couch and returned with a single red blanket big enough to cover a queen-sized bed. “You two can share; I’ve only got one for you,” he said, dropping it between us.
Zach snorted. “Give it a rest, you idiot.”
Gavin’s ears went as red as the blanket as he found his seat. “Shut up, Zach!”
Tanner shot me a look—half apology, half amusement. Then he nudged my foot, and a spark shot up my leg. “You good?”
My throat tightened as the music from the opening credits turned on. “Yeah.”
He studied me like he didn’t believe me for a minute, his nose so scrunched up I could barely make it out.
Then the movie rolled, and I let it blur past me, more aware of the inches between Tanner and me than anything on the screen.
Halfway through the movie, Mrs. Quinn made an appearance with another bowl of popcorn, the smell of fresh butter filling the basement.
She put the bowl in front of Tanner, but when her hand lingered on Tanner’s shoulder, I swore she was looking at me, studying my face as I tried to pay attention to the movie.
After she left, my body seemed to be in a fight with itself; my right leg hung off the couch, ready to spring away, and my left nestled under the blanket, anchoring me down.
But then Gavin got out of his chair and joined us on the couch without a word.
He scooted under the blanket, cuddling up next to Tanner, who engulfed him in his arms.
Tanner didn’t bat an eye as he stayed glued to the TV. No second thought, just a bond built up for years.
The only sounds I could hear were Tanner breathing steadily, Gavin chomping on popcorn like he’d never tasted such a delicacy, and Zach snorting at the movie. I hadn’t caught a single scene from the movie.
Gavin tossed his bowl on the ground, and he pushed back into Tanner, disappearing into his brother’s arms like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. For him, I guess it was.
I’d circled the edge of it. They wanted me here.
Yet people left. Families changed. And things would change tomorrow, no matter what I did, and I wasn’t sure they’d still want me once Tanner was gone.
Everyone was at the Quinns’ the next morning. Well, every one of the Quinns, plus me and Gavin’s friend, Jake Washington.
We were in the midst of loading up the Durango with Tanner’s belongings; the midsummer heat poured down on us, causing my shirt to stick more than it had an hour ago.
“Gavin, watch your step,” I said. We were carrying opposite ends of a bin of school supplies toward the car, the lid broken at the edges from overuse.
“I’m fine,” he said right as his left foot gave out underneath him, nearly causing us both to fall. Gavin caught his footing, though, as I felt the weight of the bin collapse into my arms and barely managed to hold on.
“You freaking noodle,” I said, smiling at him as we got to the car while Gavin laughed at himself. He was decked out in nothing but Missouri gear—a yellow and black hat, a yellow baseball shirt, and a pair of yellow Missouri shorts. Gavin the banana, always supporting his family.
“Watch it, Easton,” Mrs. Quinn said, rolling her eyes at the two of us as she got into Mr. Quinn’s truck, Zach sitting in the back seat.
“That’s everything you had in your room,” I said as I closed the trunk of the car. Tanner stood next to the driver’s seat, ready to go.
“Thanks, dude,” Tanner said, walking over to me.
My mouth dried out as he got near. How was I supposed to say goodbye to him? I’d known him a year, but it felt like it’d been five with everything that’d happened since I’d moved in with my grandparents.
Tanner falling in love with me. Me… finding a new best friend. Both of us fighting and then getting back together… as friends. Just in time to lose in the state finals, with me shattering Tanner’s biggest goal with a single swing.
I’d failed the relationship with Tanner, too, not being able to be the person he’d wanted me to be, instead being a scared little boy unable to admit to anyone who I really was.
I sucked the side of my right cheek into my mouth, biting the skin as I looked at Tanner. Hug? Fist bump? I had no idea.
“Come visit?”
“You’re twenty minutes away. You’d better be visiting us,” I said.
“Soon,” he said, pulling me into a hug, not giving me a choice. I felt him squeeze that Tanner squeeze, his arms wrapped around my back as if he’d never let go.
But he did. I looked at him as he broke away with words on my lips, things I wanted to say, things I’d thought over and over again for a year now—things I wasn’t allowed to say.
Tanner gave me a small frown, his face scrunching. He placed his hand on my bicep. “Take care of yourself, okay?” He paused. “And keep an eye on Gav while I’m gone. He listens to you better than anybody.”
“Always,” I said as he got into the car with Gavin, who waved as they drove away. I stared at Tanner’s license plate until my vision gave out.
I walked toward the porch, where Jake sat by himself. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been alone with Jake before; he was Gavin’s friend, not mine, but with the family leaving, it was just the two of us left, awkwardly sizing each other up.
Jake stood, and it was tough to think of him and Gavin as the same age. He was a head taller than Gavin, the black hair of his newly growing mustache matching the top of his head.
“Ready, dude?” I asked.
“I don’t need you to walk me home. I’m fourteen, not like a toddler who eats dirt when nobody’s watching.”
“Mrs. Quinn asked me to,” I said. “I do what she tells me to and fear her wrath if I don’t.”
“Whatever,” he said, bouncing down the steps to me.
“Are your parents home?” I asked.
“It’s only me and Mom. Dad ran out on us a long time ago,” he said, as if he was giving a weather report.
“That sucks.”
“She’s awesome, so it makes up for it. I didn’t like him, anyway. He’s like that teacher who gives three hours of homework. Or the umpire that has a strike zone in the other batter’s box. Or the coach that thinks baseball is a sport where you need to run all the time. Or—”
I stopped him, unable to keep up with the analogies. “I get it; my dad was a dick, too.”
“You said ‘was.’ Is he dead? That sucks, man,” Jake said.
I clenched my hands, debating whether I could trust him. I guessed if Gavin did, so could I. “He’s in jail. But no one but the Quinns know, so don’t run your mouth, or I’ll know it was you.”
“I wish my dad had ended up in jail. Dude was a total clown. Thought he was a poker player, but he lost money faster than Gavin loses pencils in school. He’d brag about a ‘super system’ and then couldn’t even buy Taco Bell. How about your mom? You live with just her, too?”
I winced, finding my line of what I was willing to tell this kid. I didn’t want to talk about what my dad had driven my mom to do, and he certainly didn’t need to deal with that kind of info.
“I live with my grandparents, actually,” I said. “They’re old.”
“Most grandparents are older than the Arch,” Jake said, before changing the subject to cars as we got to the trailer park where he lived.
I dropped him off, craving alcohol after that conversation. Any time Mom came up, my mind needed a refresher; sometimes that was a talk with Tanner, but he was no longer an option.
So, instead, a drink.