I shrug, thinking of the pictures of Trey and Zara in my purse. And the fact that Trey’s death was most likely caused by an overdose that I might have been able to prevent.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only answer I can give right now.

Turning around to see Ash, Derek, Jet, and Bree standing behind me is reassuring, but I still have a weak sensation in the pit of my stomach. On top of that, my bones feel like they’re old and brittle. I woke up this morning stiff, and I haven’t been able to shake it off. I took my meds, but they haven’t taken the edge off like they usually do.

“Where’s Vic?” I ask, wondering if he knew all along about Trey and Zara.

“Nobody’s heard from him,” Jet says.

“Rumor has it he’s running with the Latino Blood,” Bree chimes in.

The Latino Blood gang? No. It can’t be.

I look at Ashtyn. She’s got a worried look on her face, but she quickly masks it and gives me a small smile. “I’m sure he’s okay. He’s not with the LB, Monika. That would be crazy.”

But Vic can be crazy. Trey and Vic were like brothers. Vic admitted more than once that if it weren’t for Trey he’d probably be dead. Trey was the calm one who brought some normalcy to Vic’s volatile life.

Now that Trey is gone, will Vic go off the deep end?

I feel like I’m about to lose it myself. I wish Vic were here so I could talk with him, to tell him that we’re both going through hell now that Trey’s not here. I’m nervous to call him. What would I say?

When I turn around to face the casket, the constant dull ache in my back starts throbbing.

“It is with great sadness that we say good-bye to Trey Aaron Matthews, a young man who was the ultimate role model to his peers,” the minister says as he stares down at the casket.

I dig my fingernails into my palms as I listen to the minister talk. My grief mixes with a heavy dose of anger and guilt.

“Trey’s presence will always be felt by the ones who loved him,” the minister continues.

But I don’t feel his presence.

All I feel is empty and alone.

Chapter Twenty-seven

VICTOR

“Yo, wake up!”

I’m lying on Isa’s couch, hoping to get some sleep. That’s obviously not going to happen though as I open my eyes at half-mast and see her crouching down next to me. Her face is inches from mine.

“I’m tryin’ to sleep,” I tell her.

“You’ve been sleepin’ for a week, Vic. Time to join the land of the living.”

“No thanks.” When I’m sleeping, my mind goes blank and my dark thoughts disappear for the moment. I don’t want to join the land of the living, not while Trey lies six feet under.

She pinches my arm. “Get up,” she orders.

I knock her hand away. “Ow! That hurt.”

“Good,” she says. “It was supposed to hurt.”

I brush my arm off and sit up. Looking out the window, I realize it’s not even light outside. “What time is it?”

“Ten. In the evening.” She tosses a gray hoodie at me. “Here, put this on. I gotta run an errand, and you’re comin’ with me.”

“I’ll stay here.”

“No. People die, Vic,” she says as if it’s something I didn’t know. “Hell, I’ve seen too many friends die right in front of my eyes. You never get over it, but you have to move on.”

“I don’t want to move on. I like it right here, on your couch.”

“You gonna lie on that couch forever?”

“Yeah.”

“Just remember that we live on borrowed time, cuz,” Isa says. “We’re all gonna die at some point. Might as well live like a motherfuckin’ beast and say ‘fuck you’ to death. Well, that’s what Paco used to say, anyways.”

“I’m not afraid to die,” I tell her.

But the truth is, I’m fucking terrified because I killed my best friend. I’m surprised the cops aren’t looking for me, wanting to lock me up forever. I deserve it. I mean, I wanted his life, his girl, his skills, and intelligence—everyone wanted to be associated with Trey Matthews.

Most students at Fremont High have been warned away from me by their parents. Nobody wants to be associated with me.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Really, Vic? Because you’ve been sittin’ on your ass for the past week, completely useless to me. Hell, Monika’s been askin’ about you every time she comes to work.”