part 1, chapter 6

The tape is nearly corrupted. He's playing the guitar, singing. Crying. The light of the TV is illuminating the whole room and he doesn't know what to do. Shut it off, he tells himself, but he can't, because he's completely and totally awestruck.

It isn't right. This isn't his house or his tape. But something had been telling him to watch it, a nudge in the wrong direction.

There's a voice offscreen, a quiet, "What are you doing?" A red haired boy comes into the frame.

He stops and scrambles to grab the camera. As he's reaching for it, the video pauses. Nolan's body fills with dread. He looks to his left.

Clayton is standing there, holding the remote. Nolan looks at him, and in his fear finds himself staring for a moment. His dark, sad eyes, and his messy brown hair. The lips he had kissed only once. He looked, and he felt awful.

But instead of yelling, or hitting him, or even looking the slightest bit angry, he sits on the carpet next to him. "Really want to know?" he asked. "I think I'm in a position where I can tell you without getting tears everywhere." He smiled but it was bittersweet, sad.

He felt too awful to make any more eye contact. "Sorry. I...no one will tell me who he is."

"He was my best friend, Thomas. In 10th grade." He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering himself and choking back a sob. "I guess technically we were engaged. You probably wondered about this ring too. He gave it to me a few months...before he died."

Nolan's blood went cold. "Died?"

"It's been...well, in June it was six years ago." He couldn't help it anymore, his cheeks were wet with tears. "I blocked out most of that night, but I remember...in the waiting room. I just /knew/. And I ran down the hall to his room. Saw him die." He takes a breath in. "It was so much stress that I lost my hearing in my right ear." He points to his hearing aid.

"Oh. So that's why you never told us why you had it."

"Yeah." He smiles. "I'm alright. I think I'll be okay. I feel a little better now that I told you. I don't have to like...hide his photos anymore." His smile fades. "But I know I'll never have what I had with him with someone else."

Quietly, Nolan shakes his head. "I think you're right. Just by the way you talk about him...I can tell he was special." All of a sudden, he's crying too. He can feel his mascara running.

"Oh. Oh, before I forget. About last night..." Clayton looks uncomfortable. "That was, you know..."

Nolan wipes his eyes on his sleeve. "Yeah, I know. It felt like more than that though."

He nods, and then looks down. "I'd really like to have something with you, but it just doesn't feel right. Not just you. Anyone. I think...in that aspect I'll never really move on."

"That's fine. I understand." He didn't have the heart to tell him that he had seen Thomas around town. In shops. In school. Everywhere.

part 1, chapter 5

He’s thinking about it.

Thomas is bending over him. His hair falling in his eyes, lips upturned in a gentle smile. Hands making their way down. His fingers trace over it.

“Wait.” he says, sitting up. “I can’t do this.” He tries not to notice his expression falling as he takes a step back.

He stops thinking about it, his heart aching and his eyes burning with fresh tears. Why did I say no? He thought. Why?

Then he finds himself thinking about his eyes, his laugh, the way his hands felt against his skin. It was all coming back too fast even though it had been too long to hurt anymore. He might have been sobbing, but he couldn’t hear himself. 

There’s a knock at the door. He’s pulled out of his thoughts, and only one replaces them. What the woman with the harsh-smelling perfume had told him. You have to start telling yourself that it won’t be him.

He bit his lip and got up, wiping his eyes. It was only a few steps to the door, but they felt like hundreds and when he finally had his hand around the knob he was shaking. You have to accept what happened and keep going, she had told him. Clayton inhaled violently and opened the door. 

The man at his doorstep was crying, or maybe it was just the rain. His red hair was soaked, dripping onto his clothing and his face. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his shoelaces were untied. There was a silver ring on his left finger.

For a moment he was absolutely frozen. There he was, directly in front of him. The same person he had been in love with ten years ago.

part 1, chapter 4

He was a normal kid, for the most part, and maybe that was one of the things he admired most about him. The main thing they had in common was being an outsider, but Woodrow was so good at hiding it that anyone could guess he had lived in the states since he was born.

The only giveaway was the notebook he would sometimes open in class, filled almost cover to cover with a novel he was writing in French. He treated it as his prized possession, angry when someone even looked at it for too long. Obviously he couldn't read it, but Nolan was fascinated by it all the same.

If he thought about it too much he would break down and cry, but he couldn't help it. His handwriting that was hard to read, the way he wore his jeans just a bit too low, how his hair always fell into his eyes the same way. And the camera.

A red camera with a strap that was constantly dangling from his wrist. He would always take pictures at random times, whenever he felt like it. Nolan thought about what might be on the memory card, but he could never bring himself to look at it. And still the camera sat on his desk, nearly two years later.

part 1, chapter 3

He couldn't hear. They were speaking to him, but it was just white noise. His mother was staring into his soul.

Afraid to speak, he only shook his head and pointed to his ear. In the few seconds his parents were looking at each other in confusion, it set in again and he buried his head in his hands. Thomas was gone.

He didn't know how long it had been. He had just woken up in the hospital, and for a few minutes he really didn't remember what had happened. He didn't know anything. He wanted to see his friend.

But then it all came rushing back and he had been choking on his own breath, crying and probably screaming but he had no way of knowing what it sounded like. His parents, who had been outside the room talking to the doctor, then came rushing in.

The tears wouldn't stop and even hours later when he was home they just wouldn't go away. Something would remind him of his best friend and it would all come back.

He found himself sitting in the living room looking at a photo album. It was half full of pictures of them, doing all the things they did in the last year. At the lake, rehearsing songs for their band, or just eating lunch. At that point he didn't feel anything, but the tears kept coming.

He didn't understand. This wasn't unexpected. They had planned their whole lives around it for a year and a half. He thought he had come to accept it. But he hadn't, because it was eating him alive.

part 1, chapter 2

Normally, he hated summer. It was hot, uncomfortable, and the storms that came with it made it hard to go anywhere without getting rained on. And late summer, the worst of it, meant school was coming up.

But in that moment, sitting on the shore with Thomas, he loved it. Whatever he had been thinking about, his worries, his problems, they vanished for that short time. He felt like everything was okay, just sitting there resting his head on his shoulder. Even though it wasn't.

Even though he only had six months.

"I love you," said Thomas. "You do know that, right?"

Clayton bit his lip, trying not to cry. Neither of them had ever said it before. He stared out at the water and tried to return to peace but it wasn't working. "I know. And I love you too." He laid back on the sand, staring up at the sky and listening to the waves.

part 1, chapter 1

It was quiet. The thing he remembered the most about that night was the silence. There weren't any dogs barking, cars weren't going down the street, even the sound of crickets seemed to be gone.

At the time he didn't notice. They were sitting on the couch, texting each other even though they were two feet apart. It was stupid, he was nervous. His face was hot as they discussed their feelings over text. What do you really think of me?

Clayton looked up from his phone and at him, thoughtfully. "What?" he asked, frowning slightly. "Sorry, I know you wanted...well, I just have to say something."

He looked down at his phone and frantically typed something, unable to speak. He started to sweat. Are we just friends?

Smiling, he typed out an answer. Not exactly. Then he was looking at him. It was a quiet look, but it spoke a hundred words all the same. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

Something was going to happen, but before it did, he saw. It took his gaze off of his friend and made his blood run cold and his fingertips go numb. His eyes went wide.

"Clayton," he whispered, pointing to the window. "Look."

Red and blue lights flashing in front of the house, almost blinding him. He stood and ran to the door, running out of the house. Nolan was frozen for a moment but he followed. He couldn't feel his legs. He desperately willed himself not to cry. You don't know what's happened, he told himself. It could be nothing.

But somehow, he just knew.

"Is this the residence of..." The officer glanced at his paper. "Clayton Dominguez?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to hide that they were shaking. "Yeah."

Nolan saw it before Clayton did. In the officer's other hand was a red digital camera. The lens was shattered.

"...at 6:30 today, we found..."The words faded out and he didn't hear most of them. "....think he may have been hit.........blood on the road..."

"Missing."

He didn't have any time to process the information. Everything was blurring together and he was suddenly knelt on the ground throwing up, but he wasn't sure how he got there.

The next thing he felt was a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get inside." said Clayton's voice in his ear. As he was helping him up he saw the car had gone. How long had he been on the ground?