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“I won’t do it,” said Neil. “You can’t make me.”
Ichirou gave a cold smile. “Perhaps not. But we can incentivize you.” He nodded to the man beside him, who took a thin envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Neil.
Neil tried to keep his hands from shaking as he opened the envelope and pulled out a photograph of Neil with Andrew. It looked like it had been taken just a few days ago, as they were leaving the court. Neil’s blood ran cold. Belatedly, he tried to hide his reaction, but it was too late. The Moriyamas knew they had won.
“I trust I do not need to make myself more clear?” Ichirou asked. Neil shook his head wordlessly. “Excellent. I expect prompt results from the newest Butcher of Baltimore.”
***
“I’ve just got to go take care of something before practice,” said Neil.
“Do you want me to wait for you?” asked Andrew.
“No,” said Neil quickly. Too quickly, based on the increased scrutiny in Andrew’s gaze. “No, it won’t take long. Just take the others to the court.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Andrew he’d meet them there. He didn’t want his last words to him to be a lie.
“Okay,” said Andrew. He still seemed suspicious, but he trusted Neil. That, Neil thought, was what hurt the most. Maybe it was why he had to say one more thing. Or maybe he just wanted Andrew to look at him one more time.
“Hey, Andrew?” Neil said. Andrew looked at him expectantly as Neil struggled to find words that seemed doomed to be at once too much and not enough. “Thank you. For being my home.” The words were far too close to what he’d said in Baltimore, the last time he thought he was burying Neil Josten. He couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.
Andrew’s brow furrowed, and for a wild moment, Neil thought Andrew was going to stop him – that he would recognize the parallel and tell Neil to stop being stupid, he wasn’t going anywhere – but he either didn’t make the connection or decided to let Neil get away with it. To let Neil go. “300 percent,” Andrew said, walking out the door. Neil watched it click shut.
He had been Neil Josten for as long as he could.
***
“There’s no body,” said Andrew.
Kevin stared at his hands. “What, do you want to see his fucking corpse? Isn’t this bad enough without –”
“Look, Andrew, we wish he were alive as much as you do, but . . . there was a witness who saw him go over the edge. And the river is really deep there, with crazy fast currents. The divers said we shouldn’t hold our breaths waiting for a body to turn up,” said Nicky.
Andrew shook his head. It didn’t add up. Neil had left his cellphone, but he’d taken his duffle bag and his binder. The jogger who said she’d seen him jump hadn’t said anything about a bag.
He had to find Neil’s bag.
“Neil might be dead, but Abram isn’t,” he muttered.
“Where are you going?” asked Aaron as Andrew pushed out of the beanbag chair and walked towards the door.
“Out.”
***
Andrew stared the pack of cigarettes sitting on the edge of the roof, unsure whether they were a lifeline or a time bomb. He opened them. One cigarette was missing and his heart caught in his throat because Neil was here. On the inside of the box, behind the remaining cigarettes, he saw Neil’s handwriting. Don’t let this be a goodbye, he thought. Don’t let this be a suicide note.
It wasn’t. Not exactly. “I didn’t have a choice. I wanted to make sure you did,” followed by a series of numbers. Andrew tried to make sense of them. Finally, he started to see a pattern – Neil had written the stats of the Foxes, in jersey number order, with digits interspersed that Andrew didn’t recognize. Ten digits he didn’t recognize. A phone number.
Could it be that simple? Andrew didn’t know, but he knew he needed to be ready before he dialed.
***
He knocked on the door of the girls’ dorm. Allison answered, and she turned to get Renee without a word. Dan and Allison were both red-eyed and teary, but Renee’s eyes were clear. She looked like she knew he would be coming.
“Spar?” he asked.
She nodded. “Let’s go.”
***
“You should call it,” she said.
“But what if it’s – I don’t think I can live with it if it’s not.”
Renee nodded. “I know. But you can only live so long on hope alone. It’s a chance, but I think it’s one you need to take.”
“Even if I’m right,” Andrew said, hesitating, “whatever happened, I think Neil Josten is going to have to stay dead.”
“I know,” said Renee sadly. “And Andrew Minyard is going to have to go with him, isn’t he?”
***
“We heard about the tragic loss of your . . . friend,” said the man who could only be Ichirou. “The Moriyamas send their deepest condolences. But Mr. Wesninski – or, Mr. Josten, as I believe you knew him – died with a debt to be paid. I trust we can count on you to make good on his word?”
Andrew was furious at Neil – how many times did I have to tell him to stay – but he just nodded. “Yes.”
He couldn’t wait any longer.
***
Burner phone in his hand, Andrew paced the cliff side where the jogger said she’d seen Neil jump. He’d left a note for the others – “Bury me with Neil.” Whether he was right or wrong, that would be an appropriate thing for them to do.
He dialed the number, knowing that one way or another, Andrew Minyard was about to die.
***
The phone in his pocket started to ring. It was too much to hope for – it had been days. Andrew may never have gotten his coded message, and even if he did, he might have just burned it. After everything he’d put him through, he didn’t deserve Andrew. Andrew deserved better that whatever broken shell of a man he was becoming.
But he’d only given this number to one person. And he’d given that person a choice. And now his phone was ringing. He answered it. “Hello?”
“400 percent. Maybe 500.”
Neil – not Neil, he could be anyone but Neil – laughed. “Well, unfortunately, I think I’ve taken care of that for you.”
“Where are you?”
He paused. “I meant it when I said I wanted you to have a choice. If I tell you – this isn’t something we can come back from.”
“You’re already something I can’t come back from, you absolute fucking moron,” said Andrew emphatically. “Just tell me where you are so we can both go home.”
“We can’t. If I go back, they’ll – they know about you. About us. They used you to . . . If I didn’t take on my father’s role, they were going to hurt you.”
He heard Andrew’s frustrated sigh through the phone. “Do you not remember how it went for us the last time you tried to martyr yourself for my sake?”
His breath caught. “No – they didn’t –”
“Not yet. They asked me to finish the job in your place.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I just wanted you to have a choice.”
“I do have a choice,” Andrew said. “I’ve made it. Now tell me where you are.”
“I need to make sure you understand – you can’t just come and get me and bring me back with you.”
“You really are as stupid as you look,” Andrew said. “I get it. I made the arrangements. I’ll be just as gone as you are.”
***
The motel was dark and dingy and as far off the beaten path as it could possibly be while still getting enough traffic to remain in business. It was the most beautiful room he’d ever been in.
“Are you sure?” he asked Andrew between kisses. “We can’t be Neil and Andrew ever again. This life – life on the run – I’ve done it. It’s not glamorous or fun. And there’s no going home.”
“I’ll answer it as many times as you ask. But this is always going to be yes.”
He smiled, recognizing his own words. “Don’t ‘always’ me.”
“Don’t ask for the truth if you’re just going to dilute it.” Andrew kissed him fully, deeply, permanently. “You’re my home, too.”
***
They hadn’t organized Neil’s funeral before Andrew went missing, so Andrew got his wish to be buried with Neil – or as buried as anyone could be without a body. It was a small and silent affair, with only the original Foxes in attendance.
“How are you okay?” asked Aaron afterwards, staring at Renee with a mixture of anger and jealousy and desperation. She had cried for her lost friends, but she did not seem nearly as inconsolable as some of the others. “Wasn’t Andrew supposed to be your best friend?”
“He’s where he wants to be,” she said simply. “He’s with Neil.”
“Is this your Jesus stuff again? Because if I’d realized religion was such a powerful drug, I might’ve tried to pay a little more attention in church,” he said.
“Something like that,” Renee agreed with a small smile, and she turned away. She would offer her friends – their friends – what comfort she could, but Andrew and Neil had trusted her with their final secret, and it wasn’t her place to betray that trust. Renee took out her phone and reread the message that had come through that morning from an unknown number. “We’re home. He wanted me to thank you for giving me the courage to jump.”
With a soft hum, Renee put her phone away and tucked her hand into Allison’s. Home sounded like a very nice place to be.