Page 61 of The Sound of Him

I take some anyway. A benzo. A stimulant. A migraine med, for good measure. I wash them all down with the last dregs of my energy drink.

I put my earbuds in, select a playlist on my phone, close my eyes, and wait for the drugs to take hold.

Chapter Nine

Matt

Nolan has a few good days in a row, something seeming to settle inside of him as he gains more control of the kitchen. He starts smiling more. It’s nice, seeing him smile. I think maybe it has something to do with how he keeps sneaking away at night to sit with Maison by the fire. It makes me a little worried, but I try not to let that show. He seems excited about this new friendship and I don’t want my anxiety to ruin it.

Besides, if Maison does anything to Nolan, I’m pretty sure Bryce would kill him.

Nolan may be spending most of his nights with Maison, but he spends his days with me.

Sometimes it’s easy to be with him.

He brings me along to watch a movie with everyone, or to go sit in the pool room with Carter and Casey, or to go for a walk around the property with Bryce. We practice signing - sometimes when we’re alone, sometimes with the others. Practicing is one of my favorite things, even if I sometimes get frustrated with my fingers not cooperating. I like that the wordsare right there on the page for me to copy, saving me from having to think of words of my own, rifling through the messy chaos of my brain.

One day, we sit on a blanket out in the sun, the five of us, and make name signs for each other. They laugh a lot that day. I don’t laugh, but I feel the warmth in my chest, a tiny little flame I protect. I smile, though. They like when I smile.

Sometimes it’s not so easy.

Nolan always wants me to try his food, looking confused when I hesitate. “I would never put nuts in anything, I promise,” he assures, and I don’t know how to tell him that isn’t the problem.

He wants to talk about things, too. So many things. Even worse, he wants me toparticipate. He wants my opinions. He wants me to tell him what he should do about Maison and Carter, his worry only growing as he gets closer to the both of them. He wants me to tell him what I need from him. He wants me to tell him what's wrong. He wantsanswers.

And helooksat me. All the time, he’s looking at me. Analyzing me. Trying to figure me out. Watching so carefully, making sure he catches any little shift in my emotions. He looks and he worries and he asks his questions. His eyes beg me to talk, or to smile, or to just beokayagain. To be the Matt he knew. It's so hard, in those moments, not to just admit to him that the Matt he knew is dead. That I'm nothing but an empty copy. A ghost.

Despite how hard it sometimes is to be with him, though, I don’t like it when he has his first bad day after the long stretch of good ones. My heart aches for him, my mind spinning as I try to figure out what I could do to help. I want to fix things. I want him to smile again.

I realize with a sick twist of my stomach that this is how he and Bryce must always feel, the guilt gnawing at me, but at least it means I know what to do. I follow their blueprint, bringing him food, keeping him company, stroking his hair, even holding himclose when he cries. He clings to me at one point, fingers digging almost painfully into my back, and says, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

It makes me feel good. Useful. Important.

It makes me feelreal.

It makes a little voice in the back of my mind remind me that one day he’s going to figure out that he’s already without me. I'm not who he wants, not real. I’m something to be exorcised, cast out.

I try not to let the little voice win.

I sign to him that I’m going to try to find us some food, somehow feeling braver than usual about the idea now that it’s him that I’m doing it for. There’s still some anxiety making my skin feel too tight, my chest too heavy, but I have a goal in mind and a good reason to push through.

I don’t even make it into the kitchen.

Dr. Singh is sitting at the island, a notebook laying open as he writes in it. There’s a steaming cup of something by his elbow.

I try to very slowly back away.

His head snaps up.

No, no, no.

Please no.

He smiles. “Matt. It’s good to see you.”

I just stare at him.

It isnotgood to see him. Not at all.