Feeling slightly disoriented, I head down stairs. The others are all in the living room, watching a movie, because it’s already noon. A few hours later, I stand from the couch and press pause, freezing the football game that Landon, Jameson, and I have segued to, and Kendall’s barely enduring as the doorbell rings. “Hey, ask them for some pepper flakes this time,” Landon calls, throwing a pillow at me as I walk to the door. I open the door and watch as it slowly widens, as if my instincts have affected time so I’ll absorb every single second of this moment. Standing before me is an exact replica of Billy with an additional twenty-five years of life, drinking, and bar fights. I feel my shoulders square and my jaw flex. “Max.” I watch as his hand nervously rubs his left pant leg, and it pisses me off that the first thing it reminds me of is her, and her nervous habit of fidgeting.
