Kael—Two Years Earlier

My truck roared down the small street. I continued to hit my hands against the steering wheel as I drove far enough down the dark road to be out of her eyesight. I slowed to a stop on the gravel pull out at the end of her street and stumbled out of my truck. The ground was soaked with unforgiving rain, and as I looked into the darkness, I couldn't see more than ten feet in front of me. It had only been two minutes since I'd left Karina at her house, but the guilt weighed heavily on me and the passage of time felt like years.

I reached for my phone and called Fischer. My hands shook intolerably and the rain soaked my phone as I waited for him to pick up.

"Hey, man—what's up?" he asked casually. The sound of his nonchalant voice immediately triggered my anger. Even if I knew that both of us had done the right thing, I needed someone to be pissed at.

"Your sister found out," I told him flatly.

Silence.

"Found out what?" he asked. I knew he wasn't that damn clueless. He was in shock, not that ignorant.

"Where are you?" I was beyond impatient and I could hear women's voices and music in the background of wherever the fuck he was.

He paused, then took a deep breath in before responding. "I'm at Mendoza's. What do you mean my sister found out? Tell me it's not what I think it is."

"It's exactly what you think it is. I'm on the side of the road and I didn't call you for a heads-up, Fischer, I called to tell you that your sister is devastated and could really use you right now."

"Did you tell her? I thought we were—"

Before I could help it, I slammed my fist against the hood of my truck. "It doesn't fucking matter who told her, what are you going to do about her right now?"

"I don't even have a car, what can I do?"

"Are you drunk?"

"No . . ." He was lying. "Yeah, I mean, I'm not sober. But it's not like I knew this was going to happen and got plastered so you had to deal with her. Maybe call Elodie? But she's been working all day, so—"

I ended the call before he offered another not-thought-out solution.

The rain took a short break, long enough for me to consider driving back down the road to beg for her forgiveness, to explain why I did what I did. The weight of the world pushed against my shoulders as I imagined her at home alone, sitting in the dark kitchen feeling completely betrayed. I'd made the choice when I met her to try my best to take care of her, to make her life better, easier, but all I've done is fuck it up. Even though I was trying to help.

I was the one encouraging her brother to get into the Army before he could tank his life in a serious way. That's what this was—the sacrifice was temporarily hurting Karina, but in the big picture of her life, her brother being alive and breathing would matter more to her than the feelings she thought she had for me. A year from now she would be proud of him instead of mourning his absence. After a month or two she would barely think of me. She deserved to have that, and I didn't deserve to have her, so this was the way things would be. She will never leave my mind, but isn't love supposed to be about sacrifice? I didn't know; I had never loved anyone before, but it felt right. It felt wrong, but so right.

I hoped to god Elodie was home and could comfort Karina. I thought about calling Elodie, but I didn't want to admit what I had done, and I knew she had become attached to Karina's brother and would be pissed at me, too, so I took the easy way out, climbed into my truck, and drove to Mendoza's. The solution wouldn't be there, but I knew a bottle of tequila would.

Mendoza's house was lit up with every single light on. All the other houses on the street were dark and quiet. I parked in the driveway right behind his van and took a breath before getting out. Soon I wouldn't be able to come here when shit went wrong. Soon I would probably only see him at funerals or weddings, or maybe never again. That's how it was in a soldier's life—you had unbreakable bonds, but when people got out they usually moved back to where they came from, and hardly ever looked back. Mentally they had never left, even if they had physically. And in their minds they would come back often, even if their bodies didn't. Well, they looked back all the time, but physically never came back.

I heard Mendoza's voice before I saw him.

"Your truck keeps gettin' louder. I can hear it a damn mile away." He greeted me with a soft smack to my shoulder.

"Yay, you're here!" Gloria, Mendoza's wife hugged me, and I tried to force a smile. Suddenly, I wondered why the hell was I there? I didn't deserve the comfort of friends right now, when I knew Karina had no one. Carefully moving out of Gloria's arms, I tried to think of an excuse to leave even though I had just arrived.

Fischer's voice rang through the living room. "Yoooo." He slurred his words.

He was lazily sitting there, his arm stretched across the back of the white sofa. His eyes were barely open.

"How drunk are you?" I asked, moving closer.

He laughed a little, tilting his head. He looked so much like Karina that it made me want to throw up.

"Nah, I didn't drink." He nodded to Mendoza and Gloria, who were being grossly affectionate in front of us.

Mendoza kissed Gloria's forehead. "He hasn't drank since he got here. But he's on some shit, that's for sure."

Gloria rolled her eyes and shot Fischer a look of disapproval. Fischer smiled and stretched his neck. He was definitely high out of his mind. "What are you on?" I pushed his shoulder and he moved like Jell-O.

"Some soldiers dropped him off here like that, but I don't know them. I think he bought pills from them."

"Again?" I groaned. This motherfucker was really driving me crazy.

I kneeled in front of him, and in the reflection of the window behind Fischer saw Gloria and Mendoza leaving the room. There was a plastic baggy sticking out of the pocket of his sweats. I grabbed it and he tried to stop me, but his reflexes were too slow from the drugs. Long white rectangular pills and traces of white powder from them danced as I shook the bag in front of his face.

"You won't be able to do this shit soon. They're going to piss test you regularly, and they will kick you out or lock you up if you don't pass."

"I know, I know. I just wanted one last night to celebrate." He groaned. There was a sadness in his voice that almost made me feel for him. Almost.

"Your sister is completely destroyed right now, and you're here high as a kite, not having to feel shit."

He closed his eyes. "You're here too. Not with her."

"She wouldn't let me stay." I defended myself.

This irresponsible asshole gets to numb himself with drugs and I have to just deal with it; so does she. It was unfair and infuriating. Times like this I wished I could show Karina why I helped her brother enlist, why his life was in danger, and why all of this was for her, whether she could see it yet or not.

"You and I are the last people she would want around her right now." His voice was fading, his eyes bloodshot slits. "Maybe ever. And look, I know I'm a fuckup, but tonight just leave me alone with my mistakes? Please, bro." His desperation bled through his intoxication.

I didn't say another word as his head dropped to the side. I just sat and stared at him, hoping I was doing the right thing. I watched the rain through the window as he slept—or passed out—and Gloria and Mendoza never came back.