“After our comas, maybe things healed wrong.”

He peered out at me from behind his brown hair. “Things shouldn’t have healed at all.”

“But they did.”

“They shouldn’t have, don’t you get that? We should’ve died. I was supposed to die. I wanted to die. This, this”—he waved his arms around his body, trying to capture the entirety of Earth in his gesture—“is a punishment.”

“For what?”

“For me, for driving that goddamn car off the road.” My stomach clenched. That hadn’t been in the article. “For getting stuck. For killing my entire family. For not being able to help them. God wouldn’t let me die. So, you tell me, what did you do? Why didn’t you get to die?”

Decker didn’t let me die, only he didn’t do it out of hate. But I didn’t tell Troy that. I let him keep his grief. It was all he had left of them.

He ran his hands down his face and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’ll just be easier for you if you know it now and don’t have to figure it out for yourself.”

“Troy?”

“What.”

“You work here. With sick people. You’re a good person, you know that?”

“I’m not that good. I’m just trying to earn my way out of hell.”

“You’re a good person.”

He took a strand of hair that had fallen over my face and brushed it behind my ear. Then he left his hand there, fingers in my hair, thumb at my jawline, his blue eyes looking darker in the faint light. The door swung open, and I squinted from the harsh fluorescent lighting. A skinny woman with thin, greasy hair crossed her arms over her chest and looked at us, frozen against the wall.

“Teresa will fire your ass if she finds you like this.” She took a box of plastic syringes off the top shelf and left the room, like we didn’t matter to her at all.

Troy stepped back. “I’m on break now. Want to grab some lunch?”

I nodded. I was just glad to get out of this room where everything felt so serious and close and charged. Like I didn’t want him to move his hand away, but I didn’t want him to move any nearer either.

So we walked down the street, against the pull, to get some food. The pizzeria didn’t even pretend to be authentic. There were peeling laminate tabletops instead of checkered tablecloths, table legs made from metal instead of natural wood. The restaurant was illuminated by fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling instead of the low-hung, dimmed lights of the pizzerias in the movies. There weren’t even waiters. The cook, who was the only thing authentically Italian in the restaurant, shouted the orders from behind the register when the food was ready.

It didn’t matter. Johnny’s Pizzeria was the only sit-down pizza joint in town, it was across the street from the movie theater, and it was affordable for teenagers. The place was always packed.

I should’ve considered that before agreeing to go with Troy. As we walked in, bells jangling over our heads, my friends were heading out. Justin, who narrowed his eyes at me. Kevin, who ruffled my already messy hair on his way past. And behind them, Tara and Decker. Tara didn’t even glance at me as she passed, but Decker stopped.

“Hey,” he said. Troy stood a foot behind me, but Decker didn’t seem to notice him yet.

“Hi.” We were pathetic.

“So, I got you a Christmas present.”

“Oh, me, too—I mean a Hanukkah one, but I think I missed it.”

He smirked. “You always do. Okay if I stop by tomorrow around lunch?”

I nodded, and then Tara seemed to realize Decker wasn’t beside her any longer. She circled back and looped an arm through his. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for the movie.” She looked right at me as she said it. I tried not to look as nauseous as I felt.

Troy stepped beside me and put his arm around me. His hand rested on my hip, which in any other circumstance I’d find too intimate, but right now seemed just perfect. I leaned into his side. “Are these your friends?” he whispered into my ear.

Decker looked back and forth between us. “Do I know you?”

“Don’t think so. I’m Troy.”

“Decker.” Neither reached an arm out to shake hands. “You look really familiar.”

Troy shrugged. “I come in here for lunch a lot.”

“Come on,” Tara said, tugging at Decker’s arm.

Decker followed her, though he watched Troy closely as he passed. He had that look I knew too well, like he was trying to figure something out, and he hadn’t quite gotten there yet.