or finally face his reflection in the mirror with honesty after all these years, or maybe he could …” Billy’s eyes drift. The screams and laughter continue. I’m so focused on Billy’s answer, I tune out all else. “Or maybe he could … what? What were you about to say?” Billy’s eyes go wide. “Uh …” I frown at the look he’s throwing over my shoulder, annoyed at losing his attention when I thought we were finally getting somewhere. Figuring the commotion behind me to be just another dumb, drunken thing one of the football guys is
