“What? You don’t know us well enough to fight back yet?” With those words I know exactly where Billy’s mind is, mine has been there too. And the memory brings with it that horrible taste of blood, like I’m sucking on a penny.

“I would never—”

Billy punches him in the mouth, making his head whip to the side. “LIAR!” Billy shouts, grabbing the front of his shirt in his fist.

I don’t know why I’m defending my father, but I begin to peel Billy away, struggling against his anger that is stronger than my confusion.

“Go!” I yell at my dad, jerking my head toward the door. “Let him cool off.”

He opens his mouth to object, but I cut him off and instruct once again for him to leave. Finally, he does. As the door closes behind him, my arms drop from Billy. Though I’m no longer holding him, he violently shrugs his shoulders like I am, before turning to face me, his head lowered defensively and his hands balled into fists.

“Don’t give him the chance to hurt you again. He had thirteen years to come back and he didn’t! Why now? Because he no longer has to pay child support, or go to our games, or actually be a dad? Thirteen years, Max! Why in the hell are you letting him stay here?”

“Because I made him leave!” My voice matches his volume that can still likely be heard on the doorstep.

Billy’s head snaps back and his eyebrows bury over his eyes. “I swear to God, Max, if I ever hear you say that again I’ll beat you to a pulp. You didn’t make him leave!” His arm swings up, pointing toward the front door. “It wasn’t your fault! No one blames you!”

“I was trying to be Hank.”

“I don’t care if you were acting like the biggest fucker on the planet. Kids do shit, Max. They say things, they break things, they do stupid shit all of the fucking time! It’s part of being a kid! You were trying to be an adult in a situation you never should have been in. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault he hit you, and it wasn’t your fault he left.”

His eyes manage to somehow look even angrier than they did moments ago when he was fighting to get to our dad. “Jesus, is that what you’ve thought all this time? Is that why you went looking for him?”

My hand runs over my hair that now juts out over my fingers, an inch longer than I’ve worn it since Alaska.

My throat feels dry and my chest feels compressed. “I don’t know.” A loud breath echoes in the silence.

“I’m not going to tell you that you should kick him out, though I would without even blinking. But if you’re letting him stay here because you feel guilty over a fucked-up decision that he made thirteen years ago, you need to grow some balls.”

Sharing his thoughts about Erin was the first time Billy offered me advice, and I still haven’t managed to escape them from randomly playing through my head. These words I know are going to haunt me as well.

“Christ, why didn’t you ever say anything, Max?”

The door opens, breaking the tension. Hank walks in with a few bags of groceries in each hand and a smile that falls as he looks to each of us.

“What in the hell happened?”

“Nothing,” we say in unison.

Hank lifts his eyebrows but doesn’t press the issue. He cranes his neck to the side, indicating the kitchen, and holds up the bags. “I got some Jäger. Let’s get this shit over with.”

We get plastered. Completely shitfaced. Reminiscing about times that I didn’t even realize I remembered. Billy proves his lack of ability in keeping a secret and tells Hank about my fears of being the one that forced dad to leave to which Hank doesn’t respond to. He spins, raising his arm in the air, trying to kick a foot between mine. Growing up, he loved putting me in headlocks. It used to annoy the hell out of me because it was so degrading, and so damn annoying that I could never reciprocate the action, despite the fact that I’d tried for years. Now though, I’m bigger, and my alcohol tolerance seems to be at an all-time high, and I finally pin him instead.

He lets out a strangled laugh of surprise and pats my arm a few times to tell me he understands. I release him and he sits back in his chair and eyes me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Max. Not with dad anyways. The porn star, now that’s another issue. But you never made a mistake with dad. That wasn’t your fault.”

We sit in silence for a while, all lost in our own thoughts.

“Molly’s having a baby,” Billy announces quietly.

“Is it yours?”

My eyes grow as I look to Hank and wait to see Billy attack him. The universe has me completely shocked when he instead laughs quietly and takes another drink.

“When are you going to Delaware, shithead?” Billy asks.

I shake my head and pour another shot of Jäger that I toss back without blinking.

“You should go … shithead,” he continues.

“I’m supposed to let her go. That’s what David told me.”

“What?” Billy asks. “Dude, are you hallucinating?”

“No, shithead,” I reply, filling my glass again. “He wrote me a letter.”

“What?” Hank grabs my glass before I can get it to my lips. “When did he write you a letter?”

“He wrote one to each of the girls and their families. Jameson and I each got one.”

“And he told you to let her go?”

I nod, and reach for the bottle. Hank rips it away from me as well, and I turn to ask him what in the hell he’s doing.

“Max, what in the hell did this letter say?”

I grab my glass and drink it, raising my eyebrow to him, daring him to stop me. “He said that she would freak out. He knew it. But when she freaks out she doesn’t plan, she reacts. This time she planned. She planned it all. And I did let her go. I didn’t have a fucking choice in the matter. She’s gone. Get used to it.”

Hank looks at me and blinks several times. I see the questions streaming through his mind and guarantee they’ve already crossed mine at least a thousand times.

“At least go get Wes back,” Billy says. “Don’t tell the SOB, but I’ve kind of missed him.”

I wait until Monday, because I felt like shit all weekend. Apparently, I’m not as bulletproof as I had thought when I decided to finish off the Jäger by myself. I approach Wes’s apartment and knock.

He pulls open the door, and his face falls into a frown as he sees me.

“I’ve been an asshole. I know,” I start. “I feel like I’m trying to learn to fucking breathe again.”

I notice Wes’s face tighten with a grimace. “Why don’t you talk to me, then? I know this is hard on you, but being a douche isn’t going to help things get better.”

“I’m failing classes. I can’t sleep an entire night because I fucking talk to her when I sleep. I talk to her, Wes! Like she’s still here.” I brush a hand over my hair and avoid looking to see his reaction. “I live with her sister and dog. And my dad just came back into my life. I need Erin right now.”

“Your dad’s back?”

My eyes lift to Wes and rather than expressing shock, his face is relaxed and calm, reflective of the old Wes, my best friend. “Apparently.”

“Where in the hell has he been.”

“New Orleans.”

“What in the hell, dude! What’s he like?”

I shrug my shoulders and shake my head. “Fine. I don’t know.”

“He’s back?” he whispers, and I nod in confirmation, realizing how crazy this is. Wes lets out a deep breath and then nods. “Just make sure you wrap it up. Hell, double wrap that shit.” He slings an arm around my shoulders and roughly hugs me as he pats my shoulder a few times.

My dad moves out on Wednesday as the new month begins. He’s found an apartment that’s just a few minutes away from our house, ensuring me that he’ll still be over constantly.