The Best of Friends

by Lucinda Berry

“You care more about what your damn girlfriends think than you do your own family. The boys used our gun, Dani—our gun. And the police know it.”

Self-inflicted gunshot wound. That’s what the doctors in the emergency room said when they told us about Jacob’s injuries.

Jacob’s injuries and finger placement on the gun are all consistent with an attempted suicide.”

My job is taking care of Jacob. Detective Locke’s job is figuring things out. I wish he’d let me get back to mine and start doing a better job at his.

Becoming a mom birthed my biggest fear—losing him. Sawyer marked my entrance into motherhood.

Suicide contagion is a real thing in teenagers. Having someone close to you attempt suicide increases your risk.

Caleb has always been a genius with numbers and taking things apart.

Once he took apart an old microwave Luna found in the garage. He was only eight. That’s how I know he’s the one who got the gun.

“You’re right,” I say and plaster the good-wife smile on my face. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Reese shifts his eyes to me, then quickly back down again before speaking. “He was mad because he got ripped off buying pills, and he wanted some of mine.” “What kind of pills did you have?” “Adderall.” Guilt clouds his expression.

Fear squeezes my chest. What was Reese doing with Adderall? “And that’s the kind of pills Sawyer wanted?” Reese nods. Paul interrupts, looking confused. “Adderall?”

“He drank all the time. You knew that, Mom.”

“Drinking is one thing. Drugs are entirely different.” I cringe at the hypocrisy.

“He liked to party too. I told him he should’ve come to me in the first place; then he never would’ve been ripped off. I don’t treat my people that way.”

“Those guys told me less than Jacob did about what was going on in their lives.”

Alcohol turns him into a special kind of monster—a perfectly articulate and well-poised monster. He doesn’t slur his words or stumble over his sentences. He walks straight and appears aware of himself and his surroundings. You’d never guess he was drunk. It’s why they’ll give him his keys tonight, because they won’t see the darkness that’s taken over his insides.

A sharp pinch stings my upper thigh. My back straightens against the chair. What did I say? Did I insult him? Ted?

I assured myself he hadn’t done it on purpose and it’d never happen again.

Kids pop pills all the time, and every high school has its drug dealer. I just never expected him to be my fourteen-year-old kid.

“Detective Locke’s keeping secrets and knows way more than he’s telling us.” “You sound paranoid,” I mumble. “Maybe we should be paranoid.”

“Listen, I don’t want to have to do this to the two of you, but I’m just going to come right out and ask—is there any chance that Caleb’s afraid of himself?” Is there any chance my son is a murderer? That’s what he’s really asking us. Bryan leans across the table at eye level and peers into his face. “There’s no way Caleb did this.”

Tonight he hit my daughter.

“Yeah, I bet it’s really hard losing the good son and getting stuck with the bad one. That must be really difficult for you.”

Let him tell you what he knows. Don’t offer him any information. Don’t lie, but don’t tell the truth if it will get you in trouble.

“So he didn’t get in trouble for . . . let’s see, ‘threatening behavior toward a teacher’ last year?”

“Can we talk about the time Caleb was suspended for spitting in someone’s food?”

I have no reason not to trust her. Well, except for that one time. There was that one time, but we don’t talk about that. Ever. Not even the night it happened.

At some point she’s just going to have to accept his condition. It can’t be good for her to hold out hope like this. I mean, it’s been over three weeks.”

I just felt like a pampered princess. Now I’m a prisoner.

Sawyer’s throat is laced with it when he says Jacob’s name, and Jacob’s eyes return the fire. I drop the phone in my lap.

Of course we’ll have a nice chat about your secret online world before bed, because today I met Bad Andrew.

His thoughtfulness irritates me.

I just hit my son.

“I’m telling you—Jacob and Sawyer were in a relationship.”

Even if Jacob killed Sawyer, because he’s stuck in purgatory, which seems like a fitting punishment for gutting me and destroying my family.

“We’d like to talk about withdrawing Jacob from life support.”

“There’s no easy way to put this, and I’m so sorry that our current medical system often reduces patients to dollar amounts. However, your insurance company is refusing to pay to keep Jacob alive if he’s brain dead.”

I ask, and everyone around the table looks at me like I’m a child who just asked how Santa Claus gets into houses that don’t have chimneys.

“Your insurance company is refusing to pay for his continued support, and the hospital has a duty not to prolong his suffering,” Dr. Merck repeats.

“You can fight this if you want, and you have every right to seek legal counsel to help you do so.

But please know, your fight might gain you a few extra weeks, maybe even a month or so, but eventually, you’ll be court ordered to let him go.

A small giggle escapes Caleb’s mouth. Mom and I freeze. It’s the closest he’s come to making a normal sound besides sobbing or yelling in his sleep.

Jacob standing in the entryway of the same hallway that the couple just pranced through. He’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, staring at Sawyer and the girl. Anger and rage contort his features. There’s only one way to describe the glare in his eyes—it’s murderous.

Breathe. Don’t defend yourself. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’ll only twist your words until they tell a story you don’t recognize.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no medical certainty in end-of-life care.”

Maybe Sawyer died in our house because it was already filled with death.

It looks like all three of the boys were under the influence of alcohol, cannabis, and Adderall.”

All the official signatures and titles are splashed across the top like on all of the formal documents. The date reads two days ago.

“All of us are to blame for this.”

Feels like I’ve been holding my breath since Sutton slapped Jacob awake.