“Tommy’s not imaginary—”
“I’m not going to ruin my best friendship to cross off a to-do on some bullshit how-to-be-a-real-man list.” Renny didn’t raise his voice, but his words still stung. “I don’t care about sex, Ozzie. When it happens—if it happens—it’ll happen.”
“I’m not judging, Renny.”
Warren didn’t say anything. His breathing slowed and the red drained from his cheeks. Sometimes I didn’t understand my brother at all. It’s not like I hadn’t heard him playing his online games, calling his teammates “faggots,” and hooting when he scored a kill. He wasn’t as enlightened about everything as he was—at least pretending to be—about sex.
“So,” I said, trying to change the subject. “The universe is shrinking. Bet you didn’t know that.”
“What?” Renny stared at me a moment before he busted up laughing. “You’re nuts, you know that, Ozzie?”
“So everyone keeps saying.”
Renny pushed himself to his feet and slapped my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go bask in the familial bliss before it all goes to shit.”
“Five bucks says they don’t make it to noon without fighting.”
“I suspect I’m going to lose that bet, but you’re on.”
? ? ?
Warren slid a five-dollar bill across the table before I’d eaten half my eggs. Mom had mentioned going on a business trip to Chicago after Renny shipped out, and Dad had asked if Ben would be joining her. Cue the yelling.
But they pulled themselves back together long enough to open presents. Without Mom’s decorations, it felt like the Christmas spirit had taken one peek through our windows and hell-no’d it to somewhere less hostile. Mom hadn’t even hung our stockings. Instead of sitting around the tree to tear the wrapping off our gifts, we sat at the kitchen counter, where Mom and Dad handed them to us unwrapped.
From Mom, Renny received a journal, sunglasses, and a new phone—which he told us he’d need to earn time to use while in basic. Dad gave him a new laptop, which briefly ignited another argument when Mom accused Dad of trying to bribe Renny.
“See,” Warren said, elbowing me in the ribs. “There are advantages to the divorce.”
“This is an advantage?”
Warren motioned at the laptop. “Obviously.” Then he held the Doctor Who shirt I’d bought him against his chest and said, “Thanks, Oz.”
Since I wasn’t leaving home to learn how to kill people with my bare hands, my parents hadn’t expended as much thought or money on my presents. Mom bought me a gift certificate to the mall, and Dad got me a new wallet, inside of which he’d slipped a couple hundred dollars. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed by my haul, but my disappointment fled when Renny gave me his gift. It broke my heart and put it back together.
He waited until our parents had retreated to opposite ends of the house before telling me to follow him to his room, where he disappeared into his closet and dug through piles of dirty laundry to retrieve my mystery present.
“Here.” Warren handed me a flat rectangle wrapped in baby-shower wrapping paper.
“Cute,” I said. “I almost don’t want to open it.”
“Trust me; you do.” Renny was grinning, and I couldn’t begin to guess what he’d gotten me. Usually he bought me a book I inevitably exchanged for one I actually wanted, but the size, sharp edges, and weight gave away that it wasn’t a book.
I tore the paper, peeling it back. That ripping sound was the sound of Christmas, and I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I’d missed it.
But then I saw Warren’s gift, and I nearly dropped it.
“Well?” Renny asked.
I stared at him for a moment, my mouth agape. Then I stared at the present. A framed colored-ink sketch of Tommy sitting on the beach, his back to the water. His gold-speckled eyes, his crooked smile, his round nose. He sat in the sand with his knees pulled to his chest. Behind him, tangerine and violet fingers spread like an open hand against the sky and outlined Tommy like a full-body halo.
“Renny? How?” He didn’t remember Tommy, and no pictures of Tommy existed. The drawing wasn’t exact, but it was so clearly Tommy.
“Don’t be mad,” he said. “But I read your journal on your computer to find descriptions of Tommy.” When I didn’t flay Renny for breaking into my computer—again—he said, “I copied a bunch of the stuff you wrote about him and gave it to Emilia. She’s seriously badass, right?”
I wanted to murder Warren a little for invading my privacy, but how could I when he’d given me back Tommy?
When Tommy had vanished, he’d disappeared from every photo and poorly lit phone video we’d recorded. He’d even been erased from my journals, which I’d had to read to learn how my life without Tommy had unfolded, and I’d spent countless long nights rewriting my memories—the way I remembered them—so Tommy would never fade.
I hugged my brother, pinned his arms to his side so he couldn’t even hug me back. His head barely reached my chin.
“So, you like it?”
When I let Renny go, I touched the drawing, tracing Tommy’s strong jaw. “I love it, Renny,” I said. “But I thought you didn’t believe me?”
Renny offered a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve spent years masquerading online as a female half-elven priestess named Dvāra. Who the hell am I to judge?” He motioned at the drawing with his chin. “And, hey, at least your imaginary boyfriend is good-looking.”
“Thank you, Renny.”
“Don’t mention it. Now get out so I can tear shit up on my sweet new laptop.”
I turned to leave but stopped at the door. “Warren, I don’t want you to go.”
I expected him to make a joke or call me stupid. But he said, “Don’t worry, Ozzie, I’ll come back.”
“You’d better,” I said. “But just to be safe, if you see a rocket equipped with a saddle, run far, far away.”
Renny laughed. “You are so weird.”
2,000,081,000 LY
TWO DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS I stood in the shower thinking about the Salem witch trials.
Sophomore year my American history teacher, Mrs. Barnes, taught us the story of Giles Corey, who’d been accused of witchcraft. When Corey refused to renounce Satan and admit he’d cavorted with black-magic demons, the self-righteous mob subjected him to pressing in an effort to force the “truth” from him.