A/N: I'm including a brief flashback in this chapter, but I'm not sure how good it will be because I've never really written them before. I'm just letting you guys know that in case my writing seems to change. This is also a really long chapter because I'm trying to fit the rest of the book into 10 more parts. ||-//

Also, the day the two singles were released, I ran into three Clique members in public, and we started fangirling about the songs. One of the girls that I had a ten minute conversation with (I had explained Dema and everything lol) has met Fall Out Boy and has been to like four of their concerts! I love the Clique, because we all share the same interests and know what the importance of music is like. I thought that was a cool experience. 

Tyler

I glance at the trunk of my car in satisfaction. It fits. Not only did it fit into my trunk, but it fit into my plan. It's just one less thing someone has to worry about claiming when I'm not around. Giving stuff away is easier than I thought.

Shivering, I walk back into my house to grab a jacket. Ohio can be cold, even in the middle of March.

I hurry downstairs and grab the first jacket I see: my skeleton hoodie, the one that Jenna gave me. I love that hoodie so much. I wonder who I'll give it to. Maybe Josh would like it.

Both of my parents are sitting on the living room furniture when I reappear from the basement. "I'm going to Jenna's," I state.

Mom grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the couch before I can step out of arm's reach. "Actually, Tyler, we want to talk to you before you leave."

I gulp. Are they suspicious of my mental state? Have they heard me crying at two in the morning almost every night this past week? I sit down next to Mom, my body angled toward her.

Great, you got us busted.

"We'd like to talk to you about basketball, son," my father says, leaning forward and clasping his hands together.

"What about it?" I ask, playing dumb.

"You haven't been practicing as much lately."

"The season is over."

"That doesn't matter. You can still get accepted into a college through basketball."

Mom leans forward, putting a hand on my knee. I lean away from her touch. "What your father is trying to say is that he—both of us—has noticed that you haven't been as motivated to play lately. You haven't taken your five hundred shots in the evening, or played with Zack."

I shrug, picking at the fabric of the couch. "I've just had other stuff on my mind. I-I guess basketball hasn't been a top priority lately."

My mother sighs. "We understand that. It's just...we really want you to get a scholarship. You're going to go far. And, I mean you can't get a scholarship if you don't practice consistently."

See? You're already a burden and a disappointment. No one wants you around.

I hang my head. "I'm sorry. I'll try harder next time," I mumble. If there is a next time, that is. "Can I go to Jenna's now?" I look at Mom hopefully. I'm out the door as soon as she nods.

Jenna

"Jenna, could you come downstairs?" Mom calls. I give Carrie an apologetic look in the bathroom mirror. "I'll try to finish showing you a Dutch braid later tonight, okay?" She nods.

I jog downstairs, where Mom and Dad are seated at the dining room table. I pull out a chair and take a seat across from them. "What do you guys need?"

Mom clasps her hands together. "I assume you already know this, but next Monday will be one year since Brett passed away."

I nod, a lump starting to form in my throat.

Dad reaches for my hand from across the table. I allow him to take it. "We're planning to visit your aunt and uncle this weekend to help them cope," he says gently. "We were wondering if you wanted to come along."

I think for a second. My hand wanders to my locket, which holds the picture of Brett and me. I finally nod. "Sure, I'll come along. Who's watching the others?"

"Brennan is old and responsible enough to do that," Mom says. "As long as he doesn't have any parties, that is." We laugh.

"We were thinking about leaving on Saturday and returning sometime Monday," Dad states. "Sound good?" I nod.

"Well, that was all that we needed," Mom says. "I guess you can go back to whatever you were doing."

"Okay," I reply. The three of us rise from our chairs and depart from the kitchen table. Too lazy to climb the stairs again, I walk over and sit down on our couch. My mind wanders back to the dream I had on Friday night. I remember a few weeks before Brett killed himself, he told me about signs of suicide. It almost seemed like it was his way of saying he needed help, but I was too ignorant to see that.

"Do you remember that report we saw on the news?" Brett had asked, pushing his swing a little. A cold, February breeze blew through the park that we knew like the back of our hands.

I wrapped my arms around myself in the cold. "Which one?"

"The one about the man committing suicide," he replied.

"Oh, yeah. That was horrible."

"Yeah." There was a moment of silence.

"I can't believe someone wanted to do that to themselves. If only there was a way his friends could've stopped him," I said.

"Well, there are signs you can look out for," he replied. "Have you learned about any?"

I shrugged. "I remember going over some in Psych last semester, but I can't recall them."

"Usually, if someone is going to commit suicide, they'll have a plan. That plan will include a time, a place, and a method. Other signs are giving away stuff that may be personal or valuable, obtaining some sort of weapon, and saying stuff like, 'No one understands me,' or 'I won't be in your way much longer,' or 'my family/friends/boyfriend/girlfriend would be better off without me.'"

"You sure do know a lot about this," I said.

He smirked at me and ruffled the beanie covering my hair. "I actually paid attention during Psych."

We were quiet for a moment. "Thanks for telling me," I said after a minute.

He shrugged. "You could save someone's life one day."

I'm jolted out of the memory from a knock on the door. Guilt shoots through me. I didn't save his life. I shake away the feeling and stand up. "I'll get it!" I call. I walk through the front hall and open the front door, backing up in surprise. In front of me stands a red-faced Tyler gripping a keyboard almost as tall as him.

"Oh my gosh, let me get that!" I take one end of the keyboard and carry it with him through the door. We set it on the couch gently. "Why are you bringing this over here?"

"I wanted to give it to you," he says, panting slightly.

I give him a confused look, my brows furrowing. I feel his forehead. "Are you sick!?"

"No. I just wanted to give you my keyboard because you said you wanted a piano. This is a start."

I tap his forehead, my finger acting like the beak of a woodpecker hammering at a tree trunk. "Tyler, you're a musician! Musicians don't randomly go around giving keyboards to their friends."

He shrugs. "It's no big deal. I have another one at Josh's house. And there's also the family piano."

I roll my eyes, placing my hands on my hips. "Sure it isn't."

"Well, I mean, I won't need it anymore."

My brows furrow. "Why not?"

He sits down on the couch. "Well, I mean, my notebook is gone. And besides, my parents want me to get a scholarship for basketball. I won't really have any time for music, and I don't want my keyboard just to sit around and collect dust. I thought you'd take good care of it."

"Ty, we've been over this. You can still write songs without your notebook, and you should do what you want to do, not what your parents want you to do." I touch his hand.

He sighs. "Can you just...please accept it? I'll help you set it up wherever you'd like."

"Fine," I finally reply. "Let's take it up to my room."

"Okay. You can go get the stand for it. It's in the trunk."

"You sure you can get that up the stairs?" I ask doubtfully.

He nods. "I'll be okay."

We both stand up. I walk out the door to his car and pop the trunk. A metal stand lies inside. I grab it and start to close the trunk but stop when something peculiar catches my eye. Crammed into the far right corner are a snowsuit and an ice cream container full of rocks. I stare at it hard before closing the trunk and walking back inside with the stand.

I mentally debate about asking Tyler about the unusual items in his trunk, but then again, probably most people keep weird stuff in their cars. Heck, Josh probably has a whole drum kit in his trunk. I decide against it and walk upstairs.

Ty has the keyboard leaning against my bed. "Where do you want it?" he asks.

I survey the room, putting my hands on my hips. There's always been an open area on the left side of my window seat. I usually just throw a few pillows down and use it as a reading corner, but the change won't break my heart.

"There," I point. Ty nods and picks the keyboard up as I move the pillows. I unfold the stand then Tyler sets the keyboard on top of it. He takes the cord and plugs it into the wall. I turn it on and play a few chords, a smiling creeping its way up my lips.

"I knew you'd like it," Tyler says, a grin displayed on his face, too.

"I do. Thank you," I reply, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He pulls me toward him and kisses me tenderly.

"I would say to get a room, but you're already in one!" Carrie exclaims as strolls past the doorway. I roll my eyes mid-kiss. We finally break away.

"What was that for!?" I exclaim, laughing.

Tyler blushes. "I-I don't know, something just came over me. I just want you to know that you mean a lot to me."

I smile, butterflies fluttering in my stomach like we just met. "You mean a lot to me, too. Remember that." My eyes dart around my room and finally land on my calendar. "Oh, I meant to tell you something." I take his hands and guide him to my bed to sit down. "So...the first year anniversary of um, Brett's death is coming up, and my parents and I are going to visit my aunt and uncle this weekend."

He nods. "Okay."

"So...if you need anything, just call or text me," I state, squeezing his hands.

"Okay." He's silent for a moment. "Well, I should probably get going." He rises and hugs me again, pulling me to a standing position in the process. We break the hug, and he walks to the doorway. "Oh, and Jenna..." I look up at him and raise my eyebrows. "You're the best girlfriend I've ever had."

Before I can say anything, he disappears from the doorway. I run out of my room and down the stairs, but by the time I get to the door, his car is already gone. I wander back up to my room.

I pit of worry settles in my stomach. What does Tyler have up his sleeve? The way he's talking, it almost seems like he's going to...to kill himself. He's been more depressed lately because of the treehouse, he was cutting not too long ago, he's been acting strange, and he just gave me his keyboard for goodness sake!

Don't be silly. He was talking about his future, remember? my optimistic side tells me. He's going to have a career in basketball.

In basketball.

I can tell from the look in his eyes when he plays music that he's not going to be playing basketball, no matter how many people want him to.

"But if he's planning to kill himself, then whatever he plans to do in his future won't matter anyway," I say to myself. My eyes widen. He knows that not only I, but Josh and several other care about him. So why does he still want to go through with it? How can I convince him not to do it?

Maybe you can't, but there may be someone that can.

I unlock my phone and dial Josh's number.

A/N: I've only written in Josh's point of view one other time before, so I think you guys deserve to hear from Dog Breath again. :)

Trigger Warning

Josh

I can barely hear my phone ringing on my desk over the sound of my drumming. I stop and stand up, hurrying over to where it lay. Jenna's caller ID is displayed on the screen.

"What up, m'lady?" I answer.

"Only you can say something from the twenty-first century and the nineteenth century in the same sentence and pull it off," Jenna says, laughing.

"That's me. But in all seriousness, what's up?" I play with a pencil on my desk as she inhales from the other end.

"Well, Tyler just came over."

"That's...good, I presume?"

"Sort of." She's quiet for a moment. I jump when she slightly yells into the phone. "Is it normal for him to give away keyboards!?"

I stand up. "Hold up, what!?"

"Tyler came over and gave me his keyboard, the one in his room."

I glance over at Tyler's other keyboard sitting on its stand along the wall. "You're talking about like a piano keyboard, right? Not a computer keyboard?"

"Yes, a piano keyboard. He took it right up to my room and plugged it in. He said he wouldn't need it anymore."

My brows furrow. "Did he forget that he's in a band? He needs that keyboard!"

"That's not the worst part. He said he wasn't pursuing a career in music. His parents want him to do basketball!"

"That's outrageous! He went to the Dark Side and didn't even tell me. Only I can kick him out of the band. He can't kick himself out!" I wave my free hand around as I talk, even though no one is here to read my body language.

"Yeah. Um, does he also carry a snowsuit and a bucket of rocks in his car on a regular basis?"

My brows furrow. "Not that I know of. What's going on?"

I hear her take a deep breath. "Did I ever tell you about my cousin, Brett?"

I search my mind for that name. Brett...Brett...Brett... "I don't think so," I finally reply.

Another deep breath. "Well...next Monday will be one year since his death."

This took an unexpected turn. "Oh. Jenna, I'm so sorry. How did it...what happened?"

"He committed suicide."

We're both silent. Jenna continues. "Before Brett died, he showed signs, like giving stuff away, having a depressed mood, isolating himself, and obtaining a weapon. I never really picked up on them, though, and I still haven't forgiven myself for it. I hate to say it, and I'm probably overreacting, but I think Tyler is showing signs of suicide. He hasn't been the same since the treehouse burned, he gave me the keyboard tonight, and I found the unusual items in his trunk. And right before he left, he kissed me hard and told me I was the best girlfriend he ever had, like he wasn't going to see me again. I don't think his head is being too kind to him."

I'm silent for a moment. Tyler has always been that friend telling others to stay alive, but is he taking his own advice or his demons' advice? How much is he suffering? Why won't he just tell one of us!?

"Josh? Are you still there?"

I snap out of my daze and shake my head. "Yeah, yeah I'm here."

"Anyways, I have tried countlessly to talk to him and let him know that it's okay to tell me what's going on, but it seems like he's been pushing me away. I figure he'll listen to you more since you're his best friend and you've known him longer. You know more about him than I do."

"Yes, I do. We turn off the lights and share our darkest secrets as we paint each other's nails in the beam of a flashlight at our annual sleepovers."

Jenna snorts.

I chuckle. "Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. I'll go check on him, though."

She sighs in relief. "Thanks, Josh. Maybe it would be best to do it tonight?"

"Yeah." We're silent for a moment.

"Oh—one more thing. I'm going to be in northern Ohio this weekend visiting Brett's parents, but if anything, anything happens, whether it be Tyler making the tiniest cut or going missing for a few hours, you call or text me until I answer, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I reply seriously.

"Thanks. I don't want to lose him." The line falls silent again.

"Uh—if you don't mind me asking—how did...how did your cousin commit suicide?" I break out in a nervous sweat when there's a hesitation. Maybe I shouldn't have asked that. "S-Sorry. Maybe you weren't prepared for that question."

"No, it's okay. Uh...where do I begin? Hmm...remember when we went to that haunted house on Halloween and I ran out of one of the rooms?"

"Yeah. I forgot what was in that room."

"Well...it was a dummy hanging from the ceiling. The creaking rope and just the sudden appearance triggered memories. That's why I ran out of there."

"Ohhh, okay. That would've triggered me if I had been in your shoes, too."

"Yeah...Brett had hung himself. The worst part was that I was the one to find him."

My breath catches in my throat. "That must have been horrible," I whisper. I would have so many nightmares if found my dead friend or cousin.

"The memory still haunts me to this day. I wish it would just go away."

"I wish it would, too," I agree. There's another silence. "Well, I'd better be getting over to Tyler's before it gets any darker. Thank you for calling me about this. I'll do my best to talk to him."

"Thanks, Josh. You're a lifesaver. Well...Goodnight."

"Goodnight. I'll see you in Home Ec tomorrow. Hopefully our little Bon Qeesha will be there."

She laughs. "You're still not over the Bon Qeesha thing, are you?"

"Nope. That's what I'm going to call your kid one day."

"Oh my gosh. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I press the red end button on my phone and grab my hoodie from my desk chair. Pulling it over my head, I slip my phone in the pouch and head downstairs.

Maddy answers the door when I knock. We fist-bump each other in greeting.

"Tyler is downstairs," she states, one step ahead of me. "Are you here to get something from him, too?"

I stop and turn around in my walk toward the basement. "What?"

"Well, he just came back from giving Jenna something, and Mark came over then left with an old video camera and a recording set or something. He also gave Zack some old basketball shoes. Is he gonna give you something?"

I shake my head. "N-No. I just came over to see what he was doing. Thanks for telling me, though."

"No problem. See ya later."

I wave to her in reply and start my climb down the stairs.

Tyler's closet light is on when I walk into his room. I approach the doorway to see him moving a few boxes around. Various clothes are scattered across the floor.

I rap a knuckle against the doorframe. His head shoots up. "What are you doing in here?"

He stops moving the boxes and stands up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, you know"—he sweeps his hand around the small closet—"just doing some spring cleaning."

I raise an eyebrow "You never spring clean."

"Well, I decided to this year. I have a lot of clothes that I've outgrown, so I figured I can go through some to see if Zack or Jay would fit them."

"Uh huh." I cross my arms. "Are you feeling—"

"Dude, look at this!" Tyler interrupts. "It's the old Scrabble board. Remember this?"

I nod. "During one game you told me that supercalifragilisticexpialidocious wasn't a word." (A/N: I googled this and typed it into Microsoft and it's actually a word.)

"It isn't! First of all, it's too long. Second, I don't think you can even spell it. Third, you can't even have possession of that many letters at a time."

"Well, ain't isn't a word, either," I retort, laughing. (A/N: Even Microsoft Word agrees on this one. However, where I'm from in the South, this might as well be in the dictionary)

Tyler rolls his eyes. "Fine, we're even. Anyways, do you want this? I don't play it anymore, and I'm sure you could teach Abby and Jordan how to play." He holds out the box. I push it away.

"Actually, Tyler, I came over here to ask you why you're giving everything away."

He shrugs, picking at a piece of frayed cardboard on the Scrabble box. "I told you, I've been spring cleaning."

"And your keyboard is part of that?"

His face pales, like I just discovered a secret. "How did you know about that?"

Crap. I don't want him mad at Jenna for telling me. "Uh—Maddy told me. We're like best friends, so she tells me everything." Well, it's not a lie.

"Maddy needs to get her own friend," he mutters. He looks down at some of the clothes strewn across the floor.

"No, you are not giving me a pair of old underwear," I state. We laugh half-heartedly. I step further into the room and touch Tyler's arm. He looks at my hand. "But in all seriousness, are you okay?"

He brushes off my hand. "Yes. I'm fine. I'm just spring cleaning." He enunciates each word slowly, like a teacher helping a little kid read.

I narrow my eyes. "How has your mental health been?"

"I TOLD YOU THAT I AM FINE, JOSH!" Ty's sudden outburst startles the both of us. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at the floor. "I think you should leave," he murmurs. "Take this with you." He flings something black in my direction. I catch it and look at the soft fabric in my hands.

"Your skeleton hoodie? You haven't outgrown this, I know you haven't."

"It brings back bad memories. Just take it."

"But Jenna gave this to you!"

"TAKE IT AND LEAVE, OKAY!?" I can hear his breath coming out of his nose and see his chest heaving. I back out of the doorway with my hands up in surrender, the hoodie still clutched tightly in my right fist.

"Okay," I reply quietly. "Call or text if you need anything." He doesn't say anything as I leave the room.

Zack and Maddy stand at the top of the stairs, watching me curiously.

"Keep a close watch on Tyler for me, okay?" I instruct firmly. They nod without protesting.

I'm sorry, Jenna, I think as I walk out the front door. I tried to get him to let me in, and it didn't work. I tried.

A/N: Ya'll are probably sick of Author's Notes lol.

Oh well, you'll live XD I'm so mean.

So I'm going to try to do a two-chapter update when I'm on the plane or at the airport or something. All I know, it's probably going to be sometime this week with the uploads close together by either a few hours or a day or two apart. Until then, Stay Alive! |-/ ||-//