Page 41 of Wish For Me

She laughs, then stops me before I can walk out. “Oh, hey. How’s Nix doing over there?”

I turn back. “I haven’t seen him.”

She frowns. “Really? I thought he was supposed to be hanging with you guys.”

“He’s not in the rec room. I figured he was with Lyric somewhere.”

“Lyric is here.” She chews on her bottom lip. “He was acting strange earlier, that’s why I asked.”

“Strange how?”

“Zoning out. I saw him walking out to the trail by himself after lunch. I don’t know—he just seemed off.”

“I’ll find him,” I promise. “See if I can get him to tell me what’s up.”

“Thanks, babe.”

Once I’m outside, I shoot a quick text to my little brother, asking if he’s seen Nix.

Silas:Last I saw him, he said he was going up to his room for a bit.

Silas:He’s acting weird. Won’t talk to me. Blew Pres off earlier, too.

Well that’s nota good sign. Nix might be a little moody these days, but he’s usually really tight with the other members of his band. I head around the side of the house, figuring I’ll check the kitchen before trying his room.

But I don’t have to go that far. There’s a figure slumped in one of the Adirondack chairs on the back deck, alone in the dark.

“Nix?”

There’s a beat of silence long enough for me to wonder if he fell asleep out here or something. “Yeah,” he finally says, his voice low and gruff.

The bad feeling in my stomach grows as I climb onto the deck. “Care if I sit down?”

He gestures at the empty seat next to him and now that I’m closer I can see that he has a bottle of whiskey in his hand. “Dude,” I say once I’m sitting. “It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“Didn’t want to be in there.”

“Too loud?”

“Too fucking happy.” My brother-in-law takes a swig from the bottle and I wonder how long he’s been drinking. “I can’t even look at Bodhi without wanting to puke.”

Woah. This is beyond moody, even for Nix. And everyone likes Bodhi. It’s like, a rule.

“What’s going on, man?”

He takes another drink then tips his head back to look up at the sky. “She’s not coming back.”

“Sadie?”

He grunts, bringing the bottle back to his mouth.

“So she won’t be at the wedding? Did something happen with her travel plans or—”

“She was supposed to fly in today. Texted me this morning that she had to switch her flight to tomorrow, but wouldn’t answer any of my calls all day.” He pulls something out of his pocket and sets it on the arm of his chair, but it’s too dark to make out. “She finally called me an hour ago. Said she wasn’t coming.”

“I’m sorry, man. That really sucks.” I choose my words carefully. “Maybe it was just too much? Flying out here twice in a week. You know she’s busy with school—”

“She ended it.”