“Accidents happen,” Dad said.
Wyatt thought of the way that Izzy had slumped to the ground. He thought of the way that he’d been too scared to touch him, too scared to act. Not like Lou or Sam or Justin. Accidents happened, but how people reacted to them counted as well, and Wyatt hated how he’d hadn’t known what to do. He hated how he’d frozen.
He needed his Ativan.
He slipped away upstairs to the sanctuary of his bedroom. He took an Ativan and lay on his bed for a moment with his laptop open on his stomach. He went through Harper’s Facebook, liking her newest photos, and then, on a whim, looked up Izzy. He didn’t have a Facebook or, if he did, Wyatt couldn’t find it.
Wyatt fell asleep eventually and only woke up a few hours later when Justin got home. Justin and Dad were in the living room when he went downstairs again.
“How’s Izzy?” Wyatt asked.