Chapter 24

Depression, Chris. It’s written right here in black and white. What do you think he’s taking it for? It’s not a fucking vitamin.

I try to remember exactly how Aaron looked this morning when he kissed me goodbye. Fresh from the shower, hair still damp, comb marks still visible across his scalp. He tasted like toothpaste and gave me a one-armed hug that lingered a little longer than usual. Is he depressed?

Calm down,I tell myself. I don’t want to think too much—just get through the day and maybe when I get home this evening, everything will be the way it’s supposed to be. Aaron will be who I think he is and not some stranger taking pills because he’s depressed.

When exactly did thatstart? The bottle’s only a month old, but how many were there before thisone?

* * * *