I'll Be Holding on to You

after what he did

The following week Freak and I went to run some errands and stopped at Foster's Freeze for ice cream. They dipped it in chocolate and it was bomb. We were on our way back home now and at a stop light.

"Get a new fan belt," she suggested to the guy in the squealing car next to us.

"Shh," I said. I put the last part of my cone in my mouth. "Swear to God. Tryin' to get me shot again."

"Shit, I just ate part of my napkin. I always fuckin' do that."

"Yes, you do." Up ahead, two guys in white shirts, ties, and helmets rode bikes. It was almost dark.

"Hey, watch this," she said, her version of hold my beer. Indeed, it was followed by "hold my ice cream," after which said ice cream was thrust at me so I automatically took it. "Wooo! Mormons!" she yelled to get their attention as she unbuckled her seat belt. They both turned to look.

"Don't do it," I warned her but she was already holding her shirt up as I drove past them, wearing no bra. They gaped at her and one of them lost control of his bike and crashed into a bush.

I, holding both ice creams, also almost lost control at that view. I mean it was a near thing, seriously.

"Go!" she said, laughing. I floored it as she fixed her shirt and put her seat belt back on, a grin on her face.

"You are so bad," I said, shaking my head, laughing. "You're going to hell, dude." It was hilarious though.

"Best thing that ever happened to them," she said smugly, still laughing as she took her ice cream back.

"I can't even," I said, turning into the driveway.

"You never can," she agreed as we opened our doors. "They're probably coming to this street."

The front door opened and an uncool Evie looked out at us "C'mon," she said shortly, gesturing for us to hurry up, which we of course did. She shut the door behind us and paused with us in the entry way. "Cam had a bad anxiety attack. Like, your mom had to tranquilize him." Her voice was low.

My heart sank. "Why?" Not that there had to be a reason.

"We don't know. He, he couldn't say." She was flustered, pale pink hair framing her own anxious face. Not much rattled her, but when it came to Cameron we were all kind of vulnerable.

Erika hugged her and I did too, then rooted around in my purse for a vape pen, which was loaded with an anti-anxiety cbd cartridge. "Here, love. I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

She nodded, inhaling. Her outfit was a jumper/dress that matched the wig, white tights and white glittery makeup as accessories. "Mo and Freddy were in the garage, I couldn't get them because I couldn't leave him . . . it was hard," she finished, her face haggard.

"Dude," I said. "Poor Evie."

We walked with her into the living room, where Cam was curled on his side on the couch, passed out. My mom sat at the piano, tinkering. 

The boys were sitting somberly on the other couch, looking at their phones. They both gave us little waves when we came in, and Evie sat on Freddy's lap so he would wrap his arms around her. That had to feel pretty secure, being enveloped by our big and strong friend, and her face reflected it.

Erika elbowed me gently about it because it was sweet and I nodded minutely. I hugged my mom and went to stand over Cameron. I wished I could fix things for him. I wished it with a longing close to that of missing Hadley.

Freak sat on the bean bag chair and motioned me over. I felt like I probably had the classic tragedy mask face as I sat down with her. "He's okay," she said, reaching to palm my cheek as she wiped my tears away with her thumb. "He's getting better."