Page 111 of If This Gets Out

Angel startles at this, staring at the camera in wounded shock. “You must enjoy this, right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You’re always preaching about doing the right thing, and beingmature,and howawfulit is that I wanna have some fun while I still can, and the first chance you get, you throw me under the bus to Chorus. I don’t even have a problem, I just had one bad night.”

“You’ve had a lot of bad nights lately.”

Angel laughs, sharp and bitter. “You know what, fuck you, Jon. You’re such a stuck-up, pretentious dick. You know people only put up with you because of your dad, right?”

“I’m not going to fight you.”

“You know why I think you’re so against me? It’s notbecause you’re allmoral,andin with God.It’s because you know if you actually joined in and had fun with everyone, they wouldn’t want you around, and you don’t want to give them the chance to shut you out. You’re just another obnoxious rich boy who goes crying to his daddy every time he doesn’t agree with someone, and everyonehates you.”

Jon’s face is completely blank. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. I hate you.”

“You’re mad at me because youknow I’m rightand you don’t want to face it—”

“I think I might’ve hated you since I met you.”

“—and I am not apologizing for this. I am not apologizing for getting help so I don’t have to sit there and watch you kill yourself.”

“You know we’re done after this, right? I don’t want anything to do with you. We’redone.”

“Better us done than youdead,” Jon shouts at the screen, his voice raw and strangled.

The screen goes black as Angel ends the call. Jon’s breath is labored, and he covers his mouth with a trembling hand.

It’s only now that I realize I’m squeezing Ruben’s hand, so tightly his fingertips are turning purple. I relax my grip. “He didn’t mean that,” I whisper. “I know Angel, okay? He’s just mad.”

Jon doesn’t reply. He just stares at the screen.

Ruben lets go of me and wraps Jon into a bear hug from behind. Jon grips onto Ruben’s arms, his knuckles turning pale.

A knock sounds at the door, and I open it to let Erin in.

She takes in Ruben and Jon on the bed. My stricken face. The tablet set up.

“Angel called, huh?” she asks.

We all nod. None of us say a word.

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, Chorus and Galactic have made a decision about the tour.”

“And?” Jon forces out.

“They’ve decided you’re right, Jon. Angel needs time to recover. It’s been postponed.”

I wish it felt like a victory.

It doesn’t, though.

Not even close.

TWENTY-ONE

RUBEN

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