Jesse’s exhalation is almost a laugh. “I’m not, but thanks for coming to tell me.”

  I watch his back, wanting to run forward and hug him. Wishing I had the guts to do it. “That’s not why I’m here. I came to check on you. Are you okay?”

  It’s silent for so long I begin to think he won’t answer. Finally, he says, “No. Not at all.” While I consider how to respond, he shrugs. “I said I’d tell you the truth, right? It’s not always a good thing.”

  He’s tightly wound, shoulders stiff and legs braced as if for a fight. His voice is controlled and hoarse. I move forward and rest a hand on the couch. “I’m glad you tell me the truth, even if I don’t know how to make it better. I’m here if you want to talk. I do understand a little of how you feel.”

  “I guess you do,” he says, softer this time. “Do you have any regrets? With your mom and brother, I mean.”

  The question catches me off guard, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. I’ve barely allowed myself to remember because I don’t want to feel like a shitty daughter or a terrible sister.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I regret not answering the phone the last time my mom called. I sat there, watched it ring and go to voicemail, but I didn’t pick up because I didn’t feel like it. And Jeremy wanted me to come down one weekend, but I wanted to go to a stupid bar, so I made an excuse and promised we’d hang out over break.”

  Tears prickle my eyes. Those things wouldn’t matter much in the scheme of a normal life. If Mom and Jeremy hadn’t died, I would’ve had another chance to pick up the phone, another weekend to hang out. But now they loom large, reminders of how I blew off the people I loved the very last time I could’ve seen or spoken to them.

  Jesse shoots me a brief, sympathetic glance, then looks down and runs a finger along the windowsill. “I was so mad at my dad, Clary. So fucking mad. And he knew it. We were supposed to talk more the next day. Yesterday. We were supposed to talk yesterday, but instead he went off the roof. And the last thing he said to me…” His breath hitches, and I inch closer. “The last thing he said was I’m sorry. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

  My throat constricts with sorrow for him and for everything left unfinished. Jesse turns when I touch his shaking shoulder. It pains me to see his red eyes, the way he sets his jaw against tears that flow despite his efforts to stop them. “I didn’t have time to think, didn’t know what he was doing, and then he was…” He draws a deep, sobbing breath, his face averted. “I would’ve said it back. He died thinking I hated him.”

  I remember how Jesse screamed for Ethan on the roof, the gut-wrenching sound of his voice, and I can’t contain my own tears. He comes willingly into my arms, his chest heaving and his head hanging over my shoulder.

  “No,” I say, glad my voice sounds steady. “There’s no way your dad would think that. Not ever. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that you and Holly loved him.” Jesse stills, breathing hard but listening. “Do you know how many times I wished I were part of your family? You said you loved each other the way other people said hello and goodbye. I was jealous of how you all got along. How you were friends. Even if you were upset with your dad, or disappointed in him, he knew you loved him. I promise he did.”

  The words leave my mouth in a rush because they’re true. Just like no matter how guilty I feel for not picking up the phone or driving home, I’m certain Mom and Jeremy knew I loved them.

  Jesse’s arms tighten. We hold each other until our tears stop and his breathing calms. He wipes his face with his sleeve. “Thanks,” he says, watching his feet. “I’m sorry, Clary.”

  “For what?”

  “For shutting you out. I didn’t want you to see…” he shrugs, “…this.”

  I touch his chest, still half-amazed I can. “All or nothing, right? I want it all, no matter what.”

  Jesse raises his head. He’s beautiful, maybe more so now that I’ve seen this side of him. For years, I daydreamed about my happiness in a moment like this. But that was all about me. I didn’t imagine how his happiness would be as important as my own.

  He takes my hand, his gaze never leaving mine. “Me, too.”

  Jesse kisses me, and I don’t care about how badly I need a shower or how terrible I must look. All I want is to show him how much I mean what I said.

  When I open my eyes, Jesse watches where I’ve been sleeping nestled in the crook of his arm. Having spent last night tossing and turning, I was exhausted, and the king bed is cozy. Sunshine pours through the open window blinds, throwing slats of light across Jesse’s face. “Hey,” he says.

  My smile is idiotically wide. I’ve never been this happy. I don’t have to think about it to know for sure. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at you.”

  “That’s so romantic. Ugh.”

  “I like the ugh tacked on the end,” he says. “Guess I shouldn’t scatter rose petals and break out the scented candles?”

  “Not if you ever want to sleep with me again.”

  Jesse’s laugh makes me grin. “Just so you know, I wasn’t staring at you like some weirdo. You started to move around after sleeping like the dead for thirty minutes. I really have to pee, but I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  I throw my leg across his abdomen and nestle in deeper. “What’s that? You have to what?”

  “And I act like a big brother? Is this part of your whole stepbrother fantasy thing?”

  “That’s your thing! Mine is My Little Pony.” This time, Jesse laughs uproariously. I realize what I said and shove him—as much as you can shove someone you’re stuck to like a barnacle. “You know what I mean!”

  “I do know. Don’t try to deny it. Embrace your love of the ponies.” He gulps, laughter emanating from his belly, and gasps out, “Your…unbridled…love.”

  I straddle him in retaliation, grinding into his bladder. He winces, his laugh tapering to a smile. His eyes move down my unclothed body with forthright appreciation, and I run a finger up the center line of his abdomen. There’s plenty to appreciate on my side, too.

  He clasps my hands to his chest, his eyes grave. “Clary, I truly am going to pee on you. Unless that’s one of your kinks, you should get up.”

  My giggle cuts off at the sound of multiple footsteps on the outside ramp. They’re obviously human, but they’re approaching the utility room entry. With both bedroom and bathroom doors open, whoever arrives will be greeted with an uncensored view of us in bed.

  I dive under the blankets. “Shit!”

  The storm door opens, and the first footsteps enter. “Oh, hey Jess,” Gabe says a moment later. “Want me to close this?”

  “That’d be great,” Jesse replies, voice laced with amusement. “Thanks.”

  Once that door shuts, he hops up, closes the bedroom’s door to the great room, and pokes me through the covers. “You can come out now.”

  I hear him pad to the bathroom. Thank God we disrobed in here; I won’t have to ask someone in the living room for my discarded clothing. I get dressed and straighten the bed, then use the facilities. Barry turned on the water—though not the water heater—and the cold water feels wonderful on my face.

  When I emerge, Jesse is sitting on the edge of the bed. His brown hair falls limp around his face, and his grief is evident in the circles under his eyes, but he smiles at the sight of me, hands outstretched. I move between his knees and hug his head to my chest. Animated voices come through the door as whoever’s out there explores the rest of the house.

  Jesse gets to his feet with a sigh. “You ready to face everyone?”

  “Can they tease me any worse than you?” I ask.

  “Probably not.”

  He takes my hand as we step into the living room. Marquez whistles, and the others—Gabe, Lance, Nora, Dalton, and Amber—give us a round of applause. Holly smiles where she sits on a chair, though she avoids my eyes, and my blissful state is diminished by the reminder that we’ve barely spoken.

  “This place is cool,” Marquez says.

  “You guys should see that bathroom,” I say. “It has a giant jetted tub.”

  They forgo more teasing to look, then wander out again to open cabinets and doors. One bedroom sleeps three on bunk beds and a twin, the other two bedrooms contain queen beds. The dining area’s sliding glass doors lead to an enclosed porch. Outside the porch, a sloped path ends at a small shed in a clearing.

  “I say we ask for this house,” Marquez says. “We could all live here. Dalton, Amber, and I will take the room with the bunk beds. You lovebirds can fight over the other rooms.”

  A chorus of agreement follows, along with speculation about whether the parental-type people will agree. Holly approaches where Jesse and I stand. She smiles cautiously, copy-paper white with apprehension. I hate how nervous she is to speak to me, her best friend. I’ve hugged her, apologized about Ethan, but I haven’t been there for her the way I should’ve.

  I was livid at Holly for her drunken announcement that revealed my feelings for Jesse. That anger has faded, not only because her big mouth is why Jesse and I finally hooked up, but also because I get why she felt hurt and betrayed. In the space of a few hours, she caught Rose and Dad kissing, learned that Ethan had been emotionally abusive, and then, to top it all off, she discovered Jesse and I knew everything and had kept it from her. For someone who was supposed to be her best friend, I did a shitty job of it.

  “Can we talk?” she asks.

  Jesse releases my hand. My stomach churns as I follow her through the porch. Once we’ve climbed the slight rise, skirting blackberry vines and overgrown brush, we sit on the grass in a warm patch of sunlight. From here, we have a view of distant buttes and the tippy top of one of the Sisters.

  Holly breathes deep and places her hands in her lap. Her fingers are a mess of cracked cuticles, scabs, and raw skin. It makes me sad. “I’m so sorry about your dad,” I say, just as she says, “I’m so sorry I said that in front of Jesse.”

  Our shared laugh is sniffling and awkward. Holly’s eyes fill. “I am sorry. I said it because I was angry, but it was a shit thing to do. I was beyond wrong.” Her hands twitch toward each other like opposing magnets, and she crams them beneath her crossed legs. “I was wrong about my dad. I was wrong about my mom. I was even wrong about Nora. The nerd who hates to be wrong was as wrong as she could be in every possible way. It’s like my own personal hell.”

  “It really is,” I say with a groan of commiseration. “I’m also sorry I left you on the bathroom floor. I didn’t know you were really sick. I wanted to kill you, but only metaphorically.”

  “My traitorous ass deserved to be left on the bathroom floor.” I glimpse her smile before it fades. “I miss you, Clars. I’m not sure what to do without you, actually.”

  My next breath comes easier, like my chest has been cleared of a weight I couldn’t identify. Apart from everything else, I think deep down I worried she wouldn’t need me now that she has Nora. “Me, neither. It’s been kind of lonely.”

  Tears brim over her eyelashes and drop to her cheeks. “I really am sorry. This is the first time I’ve felt like me since…since zombies. Like I can see everything clearly, including myself. I just hope it’s not too late.”

  I wipe my own leaky eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You know I love you.” I could leave it like this, but I have another apology to make. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your dad.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have promised in the first place. You deserved to know the truth. Maybe we can call it even?”

  Holly holds out her arms. I lean into them, wrapping mine around her trembling body. Other friends have come and gone, but Holly has always been by my side. On my side. I’ve committed a staggering number of dumbass deeds over the years, all of which she’s either laughed at or supported me through.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask after we pull apart.

  Holly lifts her shoulders. “Sad. Just really sad. And so angry. Scared. Happy we’re okay. Like a huge piece of shit. It’d take me all day to name everything, but my schedule’s pretty full. I have about ten thousand more apologies to go.”

  I smile. I know firsthand how much she’s hurting, and I know what it takes to joke through it. “Well, this is one down.”

  “You forgive me?”

  “Of course.”

  Holly side-eyes me. “Which means I can ask exactly what you and my brother are doing.” I feign interest in the ground, crumbling a dried leaf between my fingers. She bats it out of my hand. “Clars, I’ve been waiting half my life for this! It was killing me that nothing was happening. Now tell me, who wore the strap-on?”

  I burst out laughing. “Do you really want to know?”

  “I want to hear every penis-y detail, except it involves my brother, so also not at all.” She pokes my leg. “Is he being good to you? Because if he’s not, I’ll fuck him up.”

  “He’s Jesse,” I say, and the absurd amount of mushiness in my voice would be embarrassing if she weren’t my best friend.

  There are plenty of girls who would hate for their friend to hook up with their brother, but Holly glows with so much pleasure you’d think I’ve announced my impending nuptials. “He’s the best, and so are you. Are you happy?” I nod, pretty sure I’m glowing, too. She squeezes my arm. “Is he doing okay? He won’t talk about it.”

  “He’s okay-ish,” I say. “Better now. It’s just…he felt…”

  “Guilty,” Holly says softly. At my nod—which isn’t betraying his confidence because she already knew—her eyes grow shiny again. “He usually tells me this stuff, but he won’t. Or he can’t. Maybe because I spent so much time with my dad before…” She wipes a tear that escapes. Holly and Jesse are close, and his pain hurts her almost as much as her own. “He has no reason to feel guilty, but I’m glad he’s talking to you about it.”

  “I had to hunt him down, but he finally talked,” I say. “I just listened.”

  Holly pulls a sodden handkerchief from her coat pocket and wipes her nose. “Just listened, huh? It looked like you did a lot more than listen.”

  I bump her with my elbow. “It’s not weird or anything, is it?”

  “It’s amazing. I mean, it’s weird that anyone wants to have sex with my brother. But my two favorite people getting together? I love it.” She clasps her raggedy hands to her chest. “You’ll have cute babies for me to play with.”

  “Let’s hold off on the babies until we’re sure Jess and I don’t hate each other in a week.”

  “You won’t. I told you you’d find the perfect guy, and I knew who it was.”

  We grin at each other like morons. It’s impossible to pretend I don’t adore every single word coming from her mouth. Holly’s smile falls, replaced by an expression of mock outrage. “You know what? I actually did you a favor. You two idiots would still be pretending you didn’t like each other if I hadn’t said something. Fuck that apology. Where’s my thank you?”

  My laugh spirals up to the treetops, and I cover my mouth—just because we haven’t seen zombies doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Those fuckers lurk everywhere. “You’re such a jerk, and it’s only gotten worse. You’d better break Nora in gently, since she thinks you’re a sweet angel sent down from heaven.”

  “Not after the shit I’ve pulled recently. But for some unknown reason, she still likes me.”

  “Then she definitely doesn’t know yet.”

  Holly lifts a finger to her lips. “We’ll keep it from her as long as possible.”

  We giggle the way we always have. After a minute, Holly’s shaky inhalation suggests she’s gearing up to say more. “Now that we’ve realized I’m actually the heroine of this story, one more thing. Your dad and my mom. Did you know my dad knew about them?”

  I shake my head. She offers a tremulous smile. “He said my mom deserved happiness. Someone who was good to her, especially because he hadn’t been. Your dad’s so good to her. I think they make each other happy, as weird as that is.”

  “I thought it was weird at first, but it’s like they go together, you know? Bring out the best in each other.”

  Holly nods, swiping a stray tear from her cheek. A moment later, one side of her mouth lifts and she waggles her eyebrows. “Plus, he is kind of hot for an older dude.”

  “Ew, gross. You really are a jerk.”

  “You already knew that.”

  “I did. There’s always been a huge asshole underneath that perfectionist exterior. It’s the main reason I love you.”

  Holly laughs and curls an arm around my waist. I slip mine around her shoulders. My best friend is back, and I think she’s here to stay.

  5

  CRAIG

  I spent the past months at the fairgrounds inventorying pallets, sacks, and cases of food. It was a pain to keep track of it all, but I’d give just about anything to be responsible for that prodigious amount instead of our current supplies. Stacks of boxes and cans sit in the center of Barry’s workshop, organized by type of food. It seemed like a lot when we brought it inside. It even looks like a lot. But feeding thirty people will eat into this fast. Literally.

  Seventy-four cases of MREs equals 888 MRE meals. If I ate one a day, I’d have food for over two years. Although at approximately 1,200 calories each, one isn’t enough for an average adult’s daily needs. Still, that’s a lot of MREs, and a lot of days. Until you divide it by thirty. Then you get a month—at a caloric deficit.

  Same goes for the cans of freeze-dried and dehydrated food. We have over a hundred large cans of fruit and vegetables, buttermilk pancake mix, powdered eggs, cheese powder, oats, lentils, meat, and complete meals such as bacon-potato chowder or chili mac. Each can holds between twenty to fifty servings, ranging from sixty to three hundred calories per serving. It’ll take an average of ten cans a day to feed everyone.

  Then there’s the miscellaneous food from Rose’s house: A large bag of popcorn kernels. A sack of dried pinto beans. Rice. Canned pineapple. Granola. Personal-sized breakfast cereal containers. Coffee. Creamer. Sugar. Random odds and ends from Rose’s cupboards, along with her spices.