I wish I could see him smile. I picture it, and my stomach flutters. And there it is—a trill of notes in my head. I sit up in the dark bedroom. It’s just a few notes, but it’s that same feeling as before, when I’d sit with Zach on a couch with my guitar and we’d goof around. It’s a sparkling pressure in my chest, like fizzing bubbles. I place my hand over my sternum, smiling out the window, and I’m so relieved I could cry.
