Chapter 1: A Normal Day
Duke woke up to his phone vibrating against the floor.
He opened one eye.
The room was still dark, except for the thin strip of morning light pushing through the gap in his curtains. His blanket had twisted around one leg, and his right arm was hanging off the side of the bed.
The phone buzzed again.
He stared at it.
For a few seconds, he tried to remember why it was on the floor.
Then he remembered knocking it off his nightstand sometime during the night and deciding it was a problem for his future self.
His future self was not pleased.
Duke reached down blindly, missed the phone twice, and nearly rolled out of bed before finally grabbing it.
The screen read 7:18.
He blinked.
"No."
He checked again.
7:18.
"No, no, no."
School started at eight.
He threw the blanket off and sat up too fast. The room tilted for a second.
His mother shouted from the hallway.
"Duke! You awake?"
"Yeah!"
"You better not still be in bed!"
"I'm not!"
He was absolutely still in bed.
He stood, stepped on a shoe, and almost fell into his desk.
"Damn it."
"What did you say?" his mother called.
"I said I'm coming!"
"That is not what I heard."
Duke dragged on yesterday's jeans, grabbed a black shirt from the back of his chair, smelled it, and immediately tossed it aside.
"Nope."
The next shirt passed the test.
Barely.
He pulled it over his head and walked into the hallway while trying to put on one sock.
His mother stood in the kitchen with a coffee mug in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. She was already dressed for work, wearing dark-blue scrubs and her hair tied back.
She looked at him.
Then at the clock.
Then back at him.
"You know," she said, "most people use alarms to wake up."
"I had an alarm."
"Did it go off?"
"Probably."
"Did you hear it?"
"No."
"Then it didn't do much, did it?"
Duke opened the refrigerator.
There was milk, half a bottle of orange juice, eggs, and a plastic container of leftovers he did not recognize.
He closed it.
"Where's the cereal?"
"You finished it."
"When?"
"Last night."
He frowned.
"I don't remember doing that."
"You were standing in the kitchen eating it out of the box."
"That doesn't sound like me."
His mother gave him a long look.
"It sounds exactly like you."
Duke grabbed a piece of toast from the plate beside her.
She slapped his hand.
"That one's mine."
"You have another one."
"That one's also mine."
"You need two?"
"I made two."
"That doesn't answer the question."
She moved the plate farther away from him.
"There are granola bars in the cabinet."
Duke opened the cabinet and found one crushed beneath a bag of rice.
He held it up.
"This thing looks like somebody sat on it."
"It still tastes the same."
"That's not comforting."
His mother took a sip of coffee.
"You're going to miss the bus."
"I can walk."
"You said that yesterday."
"And I walked."
"You were late."
"Only by six minutes."
"You keep saying 'only' like it makes things better."
Duke tore open the granola bar and shoved half of it into his mouth.
His mother watched him chew.
"Slow down before you choke."
"I'm fine."
"You always say that right before something happens."
"Nothing's going to happen."
She pointed toward his bedroom.
"Backpack."
Duke froze.
Then he turned and ran back down the hall.
His backpack was under the desk, half open, with a notebook sticking out. He grabbed it, checked for his charger, and found three empty water bottles instead.
"No charger."
He looked under the bed.
Nothing.
On the dresser.
Nothing.
He checked beneath his pillow for reasons he could not explain.
Still nothing.
"Duke!" his mother shouted.
"I'm looking for something!"
"Look faster!"
He found the charger plugged into the wall beside his nightstand.
"Of course."
When he returned to the kitchen, his mother was standing by the door with his jacket.
She pushed it into his chest.
"It's supposed to rain."
Duke looked out the window.
The sky was gray, but it did not look that bad.
"It'll be fine."
"Take the jacket."
"I'll have to carry it all day."
"You'll survive."
"That sounds like a challenge."
"Duke."
"All right."
He pulled it on.
His mother opened the front door, but before he stepped out, she caught his arm.
"Wait."
"What?"
She fixed the collar of his jacket.
"You look like you got dressed during an earthquake."
"I kind of did."
She brushed something off his shoulder.
"You coming straight home after school?"
"Probably."
"Probably?"
"Ethan wanted me to go to the basketball game."
"Tonight?"
"Yeah."
"You didn't tell me."
"I forgot."
"You forget things a lot."
"I remembered just now."
His mother sighed, but she did not look angry. Mostly tired.
"What time does it end?"
"I don't know. Nine?"
"Text me."
"I will."
"And answer when I call."
"I always answer."
She raised one eyebrow.
Duke looked away.
"I usually answer."
"You answered three hours later last Friday."
"My phone was dead."
"You were playing games on it when you came home."
"It came back to life."
"Miracle."
Duke smiled.
She tried not to smile back, but he saw it anyway.
"Go," she said. "Before I decide you're grounded for being annoying."
"You can't ground me for that."
"I gave birth to you. I can ground you for breathing too loudly."
"That doesn't sound legal."
"Go to school."
Duke stepped into the hallway.
"Love you."
His mother was already closing the door.
"Love you too. Be careful."
The door shut.
Duke stood there for half a second.
Then it opened again.
"And text me!"
"I heard you!"
The door closed for real.
Duke missed the bus by less than a minute.
He reached the corner just in time to watch it pull away.
The red lights stopped flashing, and the driver merged into traffic without looking back.
Duke bent over with his hands on his knees.
"You've got to be kidding me."
A boy standing across the street laughed.
Ethan Cole wore a red hoodie, black headphones around his neck, and the same pair of white sneakers he had been promising to clean for three months.
"You run like an old man," Ethan said.
Duke straightened.
"Why are you still here?"
"I missed it too."
"Then why are you laughing?"
"Because you tried harder."
Duke crossed the street.
Ethan looked at his jacket.
"Your mom made you wear that?"
"It's going to rain."
Ethan looked up at the clouds.
"It's not raining."
"It might."
"You're dressed like somebody's dad."
"It's a normal jacket."
"It has too many pockets."
"How can a jacket have too many pockets?"
"You've got, like, six."
"That's useful."
"For what?"
Duke put both hands into two separate pockets.
"Things."
"You don't own six things."
"I have my phone."
"One."
"My wallet."
"Two."
"My charger."
"Three."
Duke paused.
"That's enough."
Ethan shook his head.
They started walking toward school.
The sidewalks were crowded with students who had also missed their buses or lived nearby. Cars moved slowly through the morning traffic. Somewhere down the block, a horn blared, followed by someone shouting through an open window.
Ethan took out his phone.
"You do the history homework?"
Duke looked at him.
"You know I didn't."
"I was hoping you'd surprise me."
"I don't even remember what the homework was."
"Three pages on the industrial revolution."
"When did he assign that?"
"Yesterday."
"I was there yesterday."
"Physically."
Duke shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
"Did you do it?"
"No."
"Then why are you asking me?"
"Because I wanted to know if we were both failing."
"We're not failing."
"I have a sixty-two."
"That's almost passing."
"It is literally not passing."
"It's close."
Ethan laughed.
"You say stuff like that with so much confidence."
"Confidence matters."
"Not to the grading system."
They stopped at a crosswalk.
A little boy in a yellow raincoat stood beside his father, jumping over cracks in the pavement. His father kept pulling him back every time he got too close to the curb.
Duke watched them for a second.
Ethan followed his gaze.
"What?"
"Nothing."
The light changed.
They crossed with the crowd.
Ethan nudged him with one elbow.
"So, basketball game tonight."
"I know."
"You coming?"
"I said I'd try."
"That means no."
"It means I'll try."
"You said that when I asked you to come to my birthday."
"I went to your birthday."
"You showed up two hours late."
"I still went."
"You missed the food."
"There were chips left."
"There were crumbs left."
Duke smiled.
"Still counts."
Ethan walked backward in front of him.
"You need to come tonight. I told Maya you would."
Duke frowned.
"Why?"
"Because she asked."
"She asked if I was coming?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Ethan grinned.
Duke immediately regretted asking.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That face means something."
"What face?"
"That stupid face."
"This is just my face."
"No, your normal face is worse."
Ethan put a hand over his heart.
"That was personal."
"Why did Maya ask about me?"
"I don't know."
"You do know."
"I might."
"Tell me."
"Come to the game."
Duke grabbed the back of Ethan's hoodie and pulled him around before he walked into a parking meter.
Ethan stumbled.
"What are you doing?"
"Saving your life."
"I saw it."
"You absolutely did not."
"I was about to turn."
"You were about to become part of the sidewalk."
They reached the school with five minutes left before the first bell.
Students crowded around the entrance. A security guard held the door open while telling everyone to stop running.
Ethan checked his phone.
"We made it."
"Obviously."
"We're not even inside."
"We have five minutes."
"The stairs take three."
"You timed the stairs?"
"No."
"Then why'd you say three?"
"It felt right."
They passed through the metal detectors and entered the main hallway.
The noise hit Duke all at once.
Lockers slammed. Shoes squeaked against the floor. Somebody was shouting about a missing notebook. Two girls stood near the office arguing over a borrowed sweater. A teacher tried to move a group of students who had stopped directly in the middle of the hallway.
Duke adjusted his backpack.
Ethan pointed toward the stairs.
"Race you."
"No."
"Scared?"
"No. I just don't care."
"You care."
"I really don't."
Ethan took off running.
A teacher immediately shouted, "Walk!"
Ethan slowed into an exaggerated fast walk without turning around.
Duke laughed and followed.
For Duke, it was an ordinary morning.
He was late, hungry, unprepared for class, and being annoyed by his best friend.
Nothing felt unusual.
Nothing warned him that before the day ended, every small problem he had would stop mattering.
He reached the top of the stairs and found Ethan waiting by the classroom door.
"You lose," Ethan said.
"I wasn't racing."
"That's what losers say."
Duke pushed past him.
"Move."
Ethan followed him inside.
"Don't forget. Game tonight."
"I heard you the first six times."
"I'm going to keep reminding you."
"I know."
Duke dropped into his seat beside the window.
Outside, the clouds had grown darker.
A few drops of rain struck the glass.
Ethan leaned over.
"Good thing you brought your dad jacket."
Duke looked at him.
"Shut up."
History class was already half full by the time Duke and Ethan walked in.
Mr. Bennett stood at the front of the room flipping through a stack of papers.
Without looking up, he said, "Late."
Ethan pointed at Duke.
"His fault."
Duke stopped.
"What?"
"You took forever getting ready."
"You missed the bus before I even got there."
"Still your fault somehow."
Mr. Bennett sighed.
"I don't actually care whose fault it was. Sit down."
"See?" Duke whispered. "He gets it."
"You'll both get it when I start grading participation."
That shut them up.
Duke dropped into the seat beside the window while Ethan sat directly behind him.
Outside, the rain had finally started.
Tiny drops raced each other down the glass.
Mr. Bennett cleared his throat.
"Open your textbooks to page one hundred and twelve."
The sound of books opening echoed around the room.
Duke stared at his backpack.
"..."
He slowly unzipped it.
he pulled his notebook. out
And a pencil.
and His math book.
A granola bar wrapper.
he did not have his history book.
He closed the zipper.
Ethan leaned forward.
"You forgot it?"
Duke nodded once.
"Again?"
"I thought it was in there."
"You literally looked."
"I was hoping it'd appear."
Ethan snorted.
"That's not how backpacks work."
Duke shrugged.
"It would've been nice."
Mr. Bennett looked up.
"Duke."
"Yeah?"
"Where's your textbook?"
"...At home."
"Why?"
"I forgot it."
"You've forgotten it three times this month."
"I know."
"You know because I keep telling you."
A few students laughed.
Mr. Bennett pointed toward the empty seat beside Duke.
"Move over. Share with Maya."
Duke looked across the room.
Maya Carter—not related, despite sharing the same last name—picked up her textbook and walked over.
She set it between them.
"You always forget something."
"I don't always."
"You came to chemistry wearing two different shoes."
"...That happened once."
"It happened."
"Technically, they were both shoes."
She looked at him for a second.
Then laughed.
"I guess that's true."
Mr. Bennett clapped once.
"If the conversation is over..."
The room quieted.
Mostly.
Duke glanced at the book.
Maya noticed.
"You can move closer."
"I'm good."
"You can't read from over there."
"I have good eyesight."
"You were squinting."
"I was... focusing."
She slid the book another inch toward him.
"There."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
The lesson dragged on.
Factories.
Steam engines.
Railroads.
Mr. Bennett somehow managed to make one of the biggest changes in human history sound like bedtime reading.
Twenty minutes later...
Duke had stopped taking notes.
Instead, he stared out the window.
Rain tapped softly against the glass.
Students crossed the courtyard carrying umbrellas.
One guy slipped on the wet sidewalk.
His friends laughed before helping him up.
Lucky.
If Duke had fallen, Ethan would've recorded it first.
"Duke."
He blinked.
Mr. Bennett was looking at him.
"Question."
"...Uh-oh."
"What was the biggest reason factories expanded so quickly?"
Duke looked at Maya.
She subtly pointed at the page with her pencil.
He followed it.
"Machines?"
Mr. Bennett tilted his head.
"That's half the answer."
Duke kept reading.
"And..."
His eyes landed on a sentence.
"...Cheap labor?"
"There you go."
Duke let out a quiet breath.
Ethan whispered from behind him.
"You cheated."
"I borrowed."
"Same thing."
"It wasn't a test."
"It was morally a test."
"What does that even mean?"
"I don't know."
The bell rang before Duke could answer.
Students practically launched themselves from their chairs.
Mr. Bennett raised his voice.
"The worksheet is due tomorrow."
Half the class groaned.
"I hate homework," Ethan muttered.
"You hate school."
"I hate waking up."
"You hate everything before noon."
"True."
By lunchtime, the rain had stopped.
The cafeteria buzzed with conversations.
Some students were playing cards.
Others argued over basketball scores.
Someone dropped a tray.
A chorus of "Ooooh..." followed.
Duke carried his lunch toward the usual table.
One slice of pizza.
An apple.
Chocolate milk.
School food wasn't great, but it beat going hungry.
Ethan was already sitting down.
Across from him sat Maya and another friend, Jordan.
Jordan looked up.
"You actually bought the pizza?"
"What?"
"It looks radioactive."
Duke took a bite.
"...Tastes normal."
Jordan stared.
"You have low standards."
"I've eaten gas station sushi."
The table went silent.
"You what?" Maya asked.
"It was on sale."
"That's not helping."
"I didn't die."
Ethan looked at him.
"You almost did."
"I got food poisoning."
"You were throwing up for two days."
"It built character."
"It built bacteria."
Maya laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink.
Jordan shook his head.
"I don't understand how you've survived this long."
"I'm adaptable."
"No," Ethan said.
"You're lucky."
Duke leaned back.
"Same thing."
"No."
"Pretty close."
Jordan changed the subject.
"So..."
He looked at Ethan.
"You telling him or should I?"
Ethan grinned.
"You tell him."
Jordan looked at Duke.
"Maya asked if you were coming tonight."
Duke looked at Maya.
She immediately looked down at her food.
"I was just asking."
"Why?"
She shrugged.
"Because everyone's going."
"That's not an answer."
"It kind of is."
Ethan kicked Duke under the table.
"Ouch."
"You deserved that."
"For what?"
"For making it weird."
"I asked one question."
"You asked it like a detective."
Duke rubbed his shin.
"I was curious."
Maya smiled without looking up.
"You should come."
"I'll try."
"There it is again," Ethan said.
"'I'll try.'"
"I will."
"You know what that means?"
Jordan answered first.
"It means no."
Duke pointed at him.
"Whose side are you on?"
"The truthful one."
The table laughed.
For a while...
They just talked.
Nothing important.
A new superhero movie.
A teacher everyone hated.
Jordan complaining about algebra.
Ethan insisting he could beat anyone at basketball despite losing every weekend.
It was ordinary.
Comfortably ordinary.
The kind of conversation nobody realizes they'll miss until it's gone.
The lunch bell rang.
Students stood, throwing away trays and grabbing backpacks.
Ethan tossed his empty milk carton into the trash from several feet away.
It bounced off the rim and landed on the floor.
"So close."
"You missed by three feet," Jordan said.
"It was the wind."
"We're inside."
"Exactly."
Duke laughed as they walked toward the hallway.
"You know," Ethan said, "one day I'm actually going to make that shot."
"Sure."
"I will."
"I believe in you."
"You don't sound like you believe in me."
"I don't."
"You're a terrible friend."
"I know."
"And yet..."
"You still hang out with me."
Ethan sighed dramatically.
"I have terrible judgment."
Duke smiled.
"So do I."
They bumped shoulders as they disappeared into the crowd of students heading for their afternoon classes.
The rest of the school day went by slowly.
Duke spent most of chemistry watching the clock above the whiteboard.
Every time he looked up, only a minute or two had passed.
Mrs. Taylor stood at the front of the room explaining chemical reactions while drawing arrows between a group of letters Duke barely understood.
"So when these two substances are combined," she said, "what happens?"
No one answered.
She looked around the room.
"I know at least one of you read the chapter."
A student near the back raised his hand.
Mrs. Taylor pointed at him.
"Yes, Marcus?"
"They explode?"
A few people laughed.
Mrs. Taylor closed her eyes for a second.
"No, Marcus. They do not explode."
"Could they?"
"Not unless you do something very wrong."
Marcus nodded as if that were useful information.
Duke leaned toward Ethan.
"He's definitely going to try it."
Ethan kept his eyes on the board.
"I'd move away from him during the experiment."
"He sits behind us."
"Then we're already dead."
Mrs. Taylor turned around.
"Would you two like to share something with the class?"
Ethan pointed at Duke.
"He said Marcus is going to blow up the school."
Duke stared at him.
"You didn't have to tell her the whole thing."
Mrs. Taylor looked toward Marcus.
Marcus raised both hands.
"I didn't do anything."
"Yet," Duke said.
The class laughed again.
Mrs. Taylor pressed her fingers against her forehead.
"Duke, Ethan, please try to make it through one class without starting something."
"We're not starting anything," Ethan said.
"You just accused another student of planning an explosion."
"I said Duke accused him."
"That does not make it better."
Duke tried not to laugh.
Mrs. Taylor gave both of them a warning look before returning to the board.
"You're getting me in trouble," Duke whispered.
"You were already in trouble."
"I wasn't."
"She turned around because you were talking."
"You were talking too."
"Yeah, but I'm better at looking innocent."
Duke looked at him.
"You don't look innocent."
"I look extremely innocent."
"You look like you steal packages."
Ethan turned slowly.
"What kind of insult is that?"
"A true one."
"I've never stolen a package in my life."
"You have the face for it."
"What does a package thief look like?"
"You."
Ethan shook his head.
"I'm not talking to you anymore."
"That'll last thirty seconds."
"I'm serious."
Duke waited.
Ethan lasted twelve.
"Are you coming to the game or not?"
Duke smiled.
"I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"You couldn't stay quiet."
"That wasn't the same conversation."
"It still counts."
Ethan tapped his pencil against the desk.
"Well?"
"I don't know yet."
"You've had all day to decide."
"My mom might need me to do something."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Something."
"That's not a reason."
"It could become one."
Ethan gave him a tired look.
"You're impossible."
"So I've heard."
Mrs. Taylor turned around again.
Neither of them spoke.
She stared for another second before facing the board.
Duke looked at Ethan.
Ethan covered his mouth to hide his laugh.
When the final bell rang, the entire school seemed to come alive at once.
Chairs scraped against the floor.
Backpacks zipped.
Students crowded the classroom door before Mrs. Taylor had finished reminding them about tomorrow's assignment.
"Pages eighty-four through eighty-seven," she called over the noise. "And I mean all of the questions this time."
Ethan put his notebook into his bag.
"She says that like I did any of them last time."
"You didn't."
"Exactly."
Duke stood and stretched.
His back cracked.
Ethan looked at him.
"You sound eighty years old."
"I feel eighty years old."
"You slept through half your classes."
"That doesn't mean I rested."
They stepped into the hallway and were immediately pushed apart by the crowd.
Duke squeezed past two students arguing over a phone charger and waited beside the lockers until Ethan caught up.
"Where's Jordan?" Duke asked.
"Basketball practice."
"He plays basketball?"
"He's on the team."
"Since when?"
Ethan stared at him.
"Since last year."
"Oh."
"You went to one of his games."
"Did I?"
"Yes."
"Was he good?"
"He didn't play."
"That explains why I don't remember."
Ethan opened his locker.
A pile of loose papers fell onto the floor.
Duke looked down at them.
"You need to clean that."
"I know where everything is."
"You didn't know that was going to fall out."
"That was different."
"How?"
"I forgot it was there."
Duke picked up one of the papers.
It was a math worksheet covered in red marks.
He held it up.
"You got a thirty-eight."
Ethan snatched it from him.
"That's private."
"It was on the floor."
"Still private."
"You spelled your own name wrong."
"I was rushing."
"You wrote 'Ehten.'"
"It's close enough."
Duke laughed.
Ethan shoved the papers back into his locker and forced the door shut with both hands.
Something crumpled inside.
"That sounded important," Duke said.
"It probably wasn't."
"You're going to open that tomorrow and everything's going to fall out again."
"That's tomorrow's problem."
Duke paused.
"That's exactly what I said about my phone last night."
"See? Great minds."
"I almost broke it."
"Great minds with consequences."
They started toward the main entrance.
Students filled the front lobby, some waiting for rides while others headed toward the buses. The rain had stopped again, but gray clouds still covered most of the sky.
Maya stood near the doors with two girls from their history class.
She saw Duke and waved.
"Hey."
Duke lifted a hand.
"Hey."
"You decided yet?"
"About the game?"
"No, about becoming a professional dancer."
Ethan covered a laugh with a cough.
Duke looked at her.
"I'd be good at that."
"I've seen you trip over flat ground."
"That was one time."
"You say that about everything."
"Because things usually happen one time."
Maya smiled.
"So are you coming?"
Duke shifted his backpack higher on his shoulder.
"I probably will."
"Probably?"
"That's better than 'I'll try,'" Ethan said.
Maya nodded.
"It is."
Duke glanced between them.
"Why are you both acting like this matters so much?"
"It doesn't," Maya said quickly.
Ethan made a face.
Maya noticed.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was breathing."
"You breathe too loudly."
Ethan looked at Duke.
"See? She gets it. Your mom should ground you for that."
Duke frowned.
"How do you know she said that?"
"You told me."
"When?"
"This morning."
"I don't remember telling you."
"You said it right after we missed the bus."
Duke thought about it.
"Did I?"
"Yeah."
"That doesn't sound right."
"You also said your jacket had useful pockets."
"It does."
Maya looked at Duke's jacket.
"How many pockets does it have?"
"Six."
She stared at him.
"That is too many."
"Thank you," Ethan said.
Duke looked betrayed.
"You were supposed to be on my side."
"I never said that."
One of the girls standing beside Maya called her name.
Maya looked back at them.
"I have to go. My sister's waiting outside."
She turned to Duke.
"Text me when you decide."
"I don't have your number."
There was a brief silence.
Ethan looked away, smiling to himself.
Maya reached into her pocket and held out her phone.
"Then give me yours."
Duke hesitated for half a second before taking it.
He entered his number and handed the phone back.
Maya looked at the screen.
"You put your name in as 'Duke the Great'?"
"That way you'll remember me."
"I already knew who you were."
"Now you'll remember me better."
She shook her head, but she was smiling.
"See you tonight. Maybe."
"Maybe."
Maya walked away with her friends.
Ethan waited until she was out of hearing range.
Then he grabbed Duke's shoulders.
"My boy."
Duke pushed him away.
"Stop."
"She asked for your number."
"I heard her."
"Do you understand what just happened?"
"She asked for my number."
"She likes you."
"You don't know that."
"She went out of her way to ask if you were coming tonight."
"Because everyone is going."
"She made you put your number in her phone."
"So she could text me."
"Exactly."
Duke started walking again.
"You're making it weird."
"I'm making it obvious."
"Leave it alone."
Ethan caught up beside him.
"You like her too."
Duke pushed open the front door.
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to."
"You think you know everything."
"I know enough."
They stepped outside.
The air smelled like wet pavement. Water dripped from the trees lining the sidewalk, and shallow puddles had formed along the curb.
A line of cars waited in front of the school.
Parents called from open windows while students crossed between vehicles without looking.
Ethan pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.
Duke looked at him.
"It's not raining."
"I know."
"Then why put your hood up?"
"It makes me look mysterious."
"You look cold."
"That too."
They walked past the buses and headed down the street.
For the first few minutes, Ethan kept talking about Maya.
Duke ignored most of it.
"You should sit next to her at the game."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you just told me to."
"That's a terrible reason."
"It's enough."
"What if she sits next to you?"
"Then she sits next to me."
"And what are you going to say?"
"Hello."
"That's it?"
"What else am I supposed to say?"
"You have no game."
Duke stepped over a puddle.
"I'm seventeen. I don't need game."
"That's exactly when you need it."
"According to who?"
"Everyone."
"Name one person."
"Me."
"You don't count."
Ethan looked offended.
"I count more than most people."
"That doesn't even make sense."
They reached a small corner store near the school.
Ethan stopped.
"I'm getting something to drink."
"You don't have any money."
"I have two dollars."
"That's not enough for anything in there."
"I'll find something."
Duke followed him inside.
A bell rang above the door.
The store was narrow and crowded, with shelves packed too close together. The man behind the counter sat on a stool watching something on his phone.
Ethan walked straight toward the refrigerators.
Duke stood near the snack aisle and checked his phone.
Three missed messages from his mother.
Mom: Did you make it to school?
Mom: Duke?
Mom: Answer me when you see this.
Duke winced.
He typed back.
Duke: Yeah sorry. Made it on time.
He looked at the message.
Technically, that was almost true.
Another message appeared immediately.
Mom: You just got out, didn't you?
Duke stared at the screen.
He typed:
Duke: Maybe.
Her response came a few seconds later.
Mom: Call me when you're home.
Duke: Okay.
Ethan appeared beside him holding a bright green drink.
"How much is this?"
Duke looked at the price tag.
"Three forty-nine."
"Why?"
"Because everything costs money."
"I have two dollars."
"You said that already."
Ethan returned the bottle and picked up a smaller one.
"What about this?"
"Two seventy-five."
"This place is a scam."
The man behind the counter looked up.
"You buying something?"
Ethan smiled.
"We're deciding."
"Decide faster."
Duke took a bag of chips from the shelf.
"You want these?"
Ethan looked at the price.
"One fifty."
"I'll buy them."
"I don't need charity."
"You were about to spend two dollars on sugar water."
"That was different."
Duke walked toward the counter.
Ethan followed.
"Get the barbecue ones."
"You're being picky for someone with no money."
"I have money."
"Not enough money."
"Still money."
Duke paid for the chips and a bottle of water.
Outside, Ethan opened the bag before Duke had taken two steps.
"You could say thank you."
"Thank you."
"You don't sound thankful."
Ethan stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.
"I'm deeply thankful."
"Give me some."
"You bought them for me."
"I bought them for us."
"That wasn't clear."
Duke reached into the bag anyway.
Ethan pulled it away.
"Ask nicely."
Duke stared at him.
"Give me the chips."
"That's not nicely."
"I paid for them."
"Still."
Duke grabbed the bag.
Ethan held on.
For a few seconds, they pulled it back and forth until the side ripped open.
Half the chips spilled onto the sidewalk.
They both stopped.
Ethan looked down.
Duke looked at him.
"You did that."
"I did that?"
"You wouldn't let go."
"You were supposed to let go."
"I bought them!"
A pigeon landed near the spilled chips.
Then another.
Ethan watched them start eating.
"Well, at least somebody gets lunch."
"We already had lunch."
"You know what I mean."
Duke picked up the torn bag.
Only a few chips remained inside.
He handed it to Ethan.
"Here."
Ethan looked inside.
"There are four."
"You wanted them."
"You can have two."
"I don't want floor chips."
"They're not floor chips. They stayed in the bag."
Duke took one.
"Fine."
They continued walking.
The streets became quieter as they moved farther from the school. Most of the other students had turned onto different roads or been picked up by their parents.
Ethan lived about twenty minutes away in the opposite direction from Duke's apartment, but he usually walked with Duke until they reached the main intersection.
Duke checked the time.
3:42.
"You need to go home before the game?" he asked.
"Yeah. My mom said I have to clean my room."
"You're not going to."
"I will."
"No, you won't."
"I'll move everything into the closet."
"That's not cleaning."
"It looks clean."
"Until somebody opens the closet."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because your mom knows you."
Ethan nodded slowly.
"That is a problem."
They reached the intersection.
Cars moved through the four lanes, sending water spraying from beneath their tires.
The pedestrian light was red.
Ethan stopped beside Duke.
"So, are you actually coming tonight?"
Duke looked across the street.
"I think so."
"You think?"
"I'll ask my mom."
"Text me when she says yes."
"What if she says no?"
"Ask again."
"That always works."
"It works eventually."
"For you."
"Because I'm persistent."
"Because your mom gets tired of hearing you."
"Same result."
The pedestrian signal changed.
They crossed the street.
On the other side, Ethan turned toward the row of houses to the left.
Duke continued straight.
Ethan walked backward for a few steps.
"Seven o'clock!"
"I know."
"Don't fall asleep."
"I won't."
"Set an alarm."
"I heard you."
"And text Maya."
"Go home."
Ethan pointed at him.
"Seven."
Duke raised his hand without turning around.
"Bye."
"You better come!"
Duke continued walking.
Behind him, Ethan shouted something else, but a passing bus drowned it out.
Duke smiled to himself.
He pulled out his phone and opened Maya's new message.
Maya: This is Maya. Don't forget the game.
Duke typed a response.
Duke: Everyone thinks I forget things.
The typing bubble appeared.
Maya: You forgot your history book today.
Duke: That proves nothing.
Maya: You also forgot the homework.
Duke: That was a choice.
Maya: Sure it was.
Duke was still looking at the screen when someone bumped into his shoulder.
"Watch it," a man muttered.
"Sorry."
Duke moved closer to the side of the sidewalk and put his phone away.
His apartment was less than ten minutes from there.
He could go home, take a shower, lie down for a little while, and then decide whether he felt like going back out.
His mother would probably make him finish his homework first.
That might be a problem.
He had barely written down what the homework was.
Duke reached the next block.
Traffic rushed past beside him.
A woman pushed a stroller in the opposite direction. Two construction workers stood near a parked van arguing over a toolbox. Across the street, a little girl walked beside an older woman while holding a stuffed white rabbit by one ear.
Duke barely noticed them.
His phone vibrated again.
He took it out.
Maya: So are you coming or not?
Duke smiled and began typing.
Duke: Yeah. I'll be there.
A loud horn sounded nearby.
Duke looked up.Chapter 1: A Normal DayPart Four
A loud horn cut through the afternoon traffic.
Duke looked up from his phone.
At first, he didn't understand what he was seeing.
A delivery truck had entered the intersection too fast.
The light facing it had already turned red.
Its tires screamed across the wet pavement as the driver slammed on the brakes.
The truck wasn't stopping.
People on the sidewalk started shouting.
"Hey!"
"Watch out!"
"Oh my God!"
Duke's eyes followed the truck.
Then he saw her.
The little girl.
The same one he'd noticed a moment ago.
She wasn't beside the older woman anymore.
She stood in the middle of the crosswalk.
Her stuffed rabbit lay a few feet away.
She just stood there.
Frozen.
The older woman reached toward her.
"Emily!"
She was too far away.
Everything suddenly felt slow.
The truck.
The screaming.
The little girl.
Duke didn't think.
He dropped his phone and ran.
"Duke!"
Someone behind him yelled, but he didn't stop.
His backpack bounced against his shoulders as he sprinted into the street.
The driver leaned on the horn.
The truck slid sideways.
Its front tires left long black marks across the road.
The little girl looked up.
She wasn't crying.
She just looked confused.
Duke reached her.
"Come here!"
She didn't move.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and threw both of them toward the sidewalk.
Someone grabbed the little girl.
Strong hands pulled her away.
For one tiny moment...
Duke smiled.
She's okay.
Then something hit him.
Hard.
It felt like every bone in his body shattered at once.
The world spun.
He couldn't tell where the sky ended and the road began.
His body slammed into the pavement.
The air exploded from his lungs.
He tried to breathe.
Nothing happened.
His mouth opened.
he felt no air come out
A sharp, burning pain spread through his chest.
"...Ah..."
His voice barely came out.
Everything hurt.
his hole body hurt so much
so much pain
Even blinking hurt.
The sound around him slowly came back.
Someone was screaming.
A woman.
Another person yelled for an ambulance.
The truck driver stumbled out of his seat.
"I didn't see him!"
"I couldn't stop!"
Duke tried to sit up.
The second he moved...
Agony ripped through his side.
He collapsed again.
"...It..."
His words caught in his throat.
Something warm trickled down the side of his face.
Blood.
He could smell it.
Metal.
Rain.
Gasoline.
The older woman knelt beside him.
"Oh, sweetheart..."
Her hands trembled.
"Don't move."
"I..."
His voice sounded strange.
Weak.
He couldn't finish a sentence.
The little girl pushed through the crowd.
She was crying so hard she could barely stand.
"Mister..."
The older woman pulled her back.
"No, Emily."
"But..."
"It's okay."
It wasn't.
Duke knew it wasn't.
He couldn't feel his left leg anymore.
That scared him more than the pain.
He tried moving his fingers.
His right hand twitched.
His left barely responded.
His vision blurred.
No...
No, no...
Not like this.
Somebody knelt beside him.
A man wearing a blue jacket.
"It's okay, kid."
No, it isn't.
The man looked over his shoulder.
"Where's the ambulance?"
"They're coming!"
"Hurry!"
Duke stared at the clouds overhead.
They drifted slowly across the sky.
It was strange.
Everything else felt so loud...
But the sky looked peaceful.
A siren echoed in the distance.
Thank God...
The ambulance.
I'm going to be okay.
I have to be.
I can't...
I can't die.
Not over this.
His thoughts drifted to his mom.
She was probably still at work.
She didn't even know.
A painful lump formed in his throat.
I never called her back.
She told me to text her.
I forgot...
Again.
The sirens grew louder.
Two paramedics rushed over with a stretcher.
"Male, approximately seventeen."
"Major trauma."
"Possible internal bleeding."
"Let's move."
One paramedic knelt beside Duke.
"Hey."
His voice was calm.
"Can you hear me?"
Duke nodded weakly.
"Good."
"What's your name?"
"...Duke."
"Okay, Duke."
"I'm Ryan."
"Stay with me."
"We're going to take care of you."
Duke wanted to believe him.
He really did.
They cut open his jacket.
Cold air touched his skin.
One of the paramedics looked down.
His expression changed for just a fraction of a second.
He hid it quickly.
But Duke saw it.
Something was wrong.
Really wrong.
They lifted him onto the stretcher.
Pain shot through his entire body.
He couldn't stop himself.
He screamed.
The sound barely left his throat.
The ambulance doors slammed shut.
Ryan held an oxygen mask over his face.
"Breathe for me."
Duke tried.
Every breath felt like knives.
The other paramedic started an IV.
Ryan looked at him again.
"Stay awake."
"I'm..."
Duke swallowed.
"So tired."
"I know."
"But I need you to keep talking."
"Tell me about your family."
"My..."
His lips trembled.
"My mom."
"What's her name?"
"...Sarah."
"Good."
"You're doing great."
Duke wasn't.
His eyelids kept getting heavier.
Outside, the sirens wailed as the ambulance sped through traffic.
He couldn't hear much anymore.
Just pieces.
"Pressure's dropping."
"We're losing him."
"Come on, kid."
Not yet...
Please...
I don't want to die.
He pictured his apartment.
His messy bedroom.
His mom yelling because he left dishes in the sink.
Ethan complaining about basketball.
Maya laughing in history class.
He was supposed to go to the game tonight.
A tear rolled down the side of his face.
Ryan squeezed his shoulder.
"Stay with me, Duke."
Duke tried to answer.
He wasn't sure if any words came out.
Everything became darker.
The voices sounded farther away.
"...Mom..."
Those were the last words he remembered saying.
Then...
nothing