"I see why our dads loved Wafflehouses so much," I say as I shovel a bite of pancake into my mouth. "These pancakes are the best thing I've eaten in a while."

When Emori doesn't respond, I can tell something's up. We used to talk about this all the time when we were younger. This was the one thing we've always wanted to do together. But now she's quiet?

"Emori, what's wrong?" I lay my fork down and turn to her. She never says what's on her mind. She always tries to avoid anything that could upset someone. It's great, in theory, but right now, it's annoying.

"It's nothing."

"It's obviously something," I say. If she at least says something, whether it's strained or not, maybe I could say it's about her dad. But this is about me. I can tell.

"All day, you've been pretending to be okay. Why not just let yourself, you know, be? You're allowed to not be okay." She takes a deep breath. "I know I sound like a hypocrite, but you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not."

"I just want things to be how they used to be." Does she not understand that? I feel like I've been telling her that over and over, but she still doesn't get it. No one does.

"But they're not, Tay. We grew up and you got in a wreck and Gavin is dead."

My muscles stiffen, and I sit straighter. "You don't have to remind me. I'm well aware."

"Then why are you so afraid?" She grabs my arm. Not harshly, just to make me listen harder.

"Of what?" My voice cracks on the last word. I swallow and look away for her, willing the dam in my eyes to stay put.

"Of letting him go. Of acknowledging that, yes, things aren't the same, but maybe that's a good thing?"

"You don't..." I stop and swallow again to collect myself. I should have known this would happen. Even when we were children, she was the one who set me straight when I was being an idiot. I hate that she has that effect on me. "It's hard to see someone you love like that. Gavin was... he was this giant, larger-than-life person that was always there. Always smiling. And to see him like that... just lying there, his eyes open, like marbles... you never get over that."

"And no one expects you to," she says. "It takes a while. I know that. You have to make them know it, too."

I hate that she's right. "Why do you always have to be right?"

She laughs. "It's me. C'mon." She wraps her arms around me and leans her head on my shoulder. "Now finish your pancakes. I'm gonna call my mom to give us a ride home."

---

When I hear the door to my room open in the morning, I groan and stick my head under my pillow. I know it's Travis, but after the events of last night, I'm not ready to talk to anyone. My fight with Emori was probably heard by everyone, and I'm sure it's already become the 'hottest' news at school. If I didn't like the pity before, I definitely won't now.

"Come on, man." Travis shakes me back and forth and causes my hangover headache to throb more. "It's three-thirty in the afternoon and you've got to get up. You already skipped school. Quit playin' possum."

"I'm not, I just don't want to get up. Leave me alone." I'm not tired. I just don't want to face the world again. Right now, life is going to have to go on without me.

"You really caused a scene last night."

I know I did. I was drunk and I'd reacted harshly to Emori. She was only trying to help. In the long run, she did. I thought for sure some jackass was going to ruin the night.

The bad thing is, that jackass was me.

"Come on. Parker and the guys have set up a get-together."

I don't want to be anywhere but home, but I know Ma will drag me out of the house by my ear if I don't show up to this. Plus, after how many things I've had dedicated to me in the past month, anything normal would be amazing.

The floorboards creak as Travis senses the shift in my mood and enters my closet. When he comes back out, he throws clothes at me, and I feel around until I find the right direction to put them on.

"Your shirt is on backward," Travis says.

I stop pulling the shirt over my head. "What? No, it's not." I feel around for the tag. When I can tell that it's on correctly, I throw a pillow in his direction, hoping it will hit him. "Not funny."

"Yes, it is. You can't see it, so I can tell you anything, and you'll believe it. So gullible."

He keeps laughing as I follow him downstairs. Jerk. If I could see him, I would beat his ass.

Even though his jokes would be considered rude or insensitive by most, it makes me smile. If this were a normal day from before he still would have tricked me in some way or another.

"Speaking of seeing things, I'm gonna need your help knowing who all is there. You'll probably have to help me around the house, too." I hate being dependent on someone else, but that's my life now. Travis and Jackson don't make fun of me for it or take advantage of my vulnerability – besides that shithead move just now – so I know I can trust them.

"There a while back you mentioned something about possible surgery. What was that about?" Travis asks.

"Yeah, I have an appointment tomorrow to talk to the specialist about it." When I first told my parents about the surgery, they didn't hesitate to call my doctor about it. The pros definitely outweigh the cons, and this is my only real chance to see again. I'll still be blind until everything heals properly, but other than the possibility of a failed surgery, there aren't many cons that we can look up. If there are more things we need to know, the doctor will clear that up at our appointment.

"That's awesome, man!" Travis stops, and I almost run into him. I grunt when my foot slips on the steps and my hands grasp the banister to steady myself. Before I can yell at him for stopping without warning me, he speaks again, "Are you nervous he might not be able to do it?"

I sigh. "Yeah. I'll be one of the first to try it out of the clinical study, but he's sure he can do it if I'm a good candidate." Everything is riding on whether my vision isn't damaged too much. If this doesn't work, I'll never have a chance to play football again. Even now, I'll never go pro, but at least I can play during college if I manage to get on the team.

"Don't worry. I'm sure it will all be fine." He starts walking again, pulling me forward with him and practically shoving me into his truck. "We've gotta get goin', though, or we're gonna be late."

After the fifteen minute drive to Parker's house, Travis parks his truck and we get out. From the amount of chatter and laughter, I can tell the rest of the guys are here already. For once, no one is waiting for me.

"At last!" I cry while throwing my hands in the air as if praising the heavens. "A normal meeting of morons." I turn to Travis with a cheeky grin on my face.

"Shut up." He punches me in the arm. "I'm gonna kick your ass before you even think about going inside if you don't shut up."

"Fine, Mom."

He lets out a noise similar to a growl, and I jump out of the way before his arms can reach me. Making sure I'm not going to fall, I take off toward the house, stopping right outside. My hand hesitates on the door handle as dread kicks in. Dread that as soon as I step inside, all eyes will turn toward me, and all conversation will cease. I don't want that.

An arm winds itself around my shoulders, and I slouch. "It'll be fine, Tay. The guys know better than to treat you differently. If they do, you have Parker's permission to sock 'em."

I chuckle and find the doorknob.

Just as Travis promised, the conversation never stops. Everything is as it should have been.

Thank the Lord.

"Hey, guys," Parker greets. He slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me forward. "You'll never believe who agreed to go out with me."

I had a decent guess. Parker only shows interest in one girl at a time and that interest lasts a while. He's the only one of the guys I know that would stick with one woman for more than a couple of weeks. That is a good thing, considering how he grew up. He has more siblings from different fathers than I could think possible.

"Darcie Davis?" By the way Parker's arm slumps around me it's easy to tell that Travis guessed right. Darcie was all Parker could talk about since he got rejected by one of the soccer girls. And by the way they acted with each other at the party last night, it's not much of a surprise that they got together.

"Aw, you took all the fun out of it," Parker whines. "Just one time, can you let me have my fun? Does suspense mean nothing to you people?"

"Nope," Travis says as the suction of the fridge door pops. "Got any coke?"

"I don't know. Ma hasn't gone grocery shopping in a while. You'll just have to look." Parker's arm leaves my shoulder as he moves toward what I assume is the couch.

"How've things been going, Tay?" Bain asks. "You didn't seem too happy when you decided to have a shouting match with Emori last night."

Asshole. Of course, he would bring something like that up.

"None of your damn business, Bain," I growl, taking a drink of the coke Travis handed me. I'm not in the mood for Bain's challenges. Ever since he got on the varsity football team, he's been trying to one-up me. Of course, that couldn't happen until I graduated and he became a senior, but that doesn't matter now. He's the best running back the team has without me.

"Hey, you know what I just realized?" Bain asks.

I bite my tongue before I say something stupid.

"Since most of the team graduated last year, we've got mostly Juniors in the good spots." He's silent for a moment, and I know he's going to say something stupid. "Even Tay was replaced by a Junior." He doesn't have to point out that he's referring to himself.

Strike three, Bain.

I launch across the room. When I hear a crack as my fist connects with something hard and covered in stubble, I know I hit what I wanted to. Bain's jaw is probably hurting way more than my fist is. It's a satisfying thought.

Travis sighs as he and someone else grabs my arms and pulls me backward. I don't put up any resistance. I did what I wanted. There's nothing else for me to do. He learned his lesson and hopefully, he'll think twice about messing with me next time.

Bain chuckles. "Easy, there, big guy. Can someone get me a napkin? Damn lip is bleeding."

Parker, having stood up from his spot on the couch beside me sometime during the fight, says, "Bain, I think you ought to leave."

"What?" he protests. "But I didn't even -"

"Just take your napkin and go." I can imagine Parker pointing to the door like Bain is a dog. It almost makes me laugh.

Before he leaves, Bain stops beside me and leans in close. His breath tickles my ear as I fight the urge to punch him again. "You better watch your back."

Boo-fuckin'-hoo.