He’d just made it out of the gate when the fireworks started, reds, greens and golds lighting up the sky. He stopped to look at them. He’d always loved the fireworks. It had been his favorite holiday as a kid.

“Trevor? Holy shit, is that you? I’m sure as hell hoping it is, because if it’s Blake, you’re probably going to kick my ass.”

Trevor froze at the voice talking to him. Obviously, it was him since Blake didn’t have any of the piercings that he did.

“It is you! Hey, man? What’s up?” It was another male voice he recognized. Paul and David. He’d partied with these two men more times than he could count. His stomach twisted in knots at the same time that he wanted to step closer to them. He wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have something to drink on them right now. No one was watching. If he slipped away with them, his family would never know. And after the night he’d had, Trevor deserved that.

No. He couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t. “I’m just heading out. Maybe I can catch up with you guys another time.” His voice sounded strong. Trevor was proud of that.

“You want to leave with us? We were thinking of hitting up the Homestead,” Paul asked. It was one of the local bars in Rockford Falls.

Do it.

Don’t.

No one would know.

I would.

Trevor’s thoughts warred with each other. “I really can’t.”

“One drink won’t hurt. It’s been too long.” This from David.

It’s only one drink...

His brother was already pissed at him anyway. He’d already hurt his mom. Simon left. What could it hurt?

That’s when he felt it...the cool glass bottle in his hand. The liquid on his tongue. The burn of it sliding down his throat. He missed it. Missed it so fucking much sometimes—the feeling of being numb. He closed his eyes, imagining the tingle move through him that would dull into a numbness. He could do this. He could go.

But then, he saw his mom...Blake...Simon. He saw his own face in the mirror and thought about the hate for himself he would see reflected there if he went with them.

Trevor shook his head. “No. I can’t. I don’t drink anymore.” Never again. He went to walk away but Paul grabbed his arm.

“Come on, man. You’re being rude.” Paul didn’t let go.

“You act like we didn’t used to be friends. Hell, we haven’t even seen you since you’ve been back.” David said.

The pull teased him again. Trevor wanted to go. After all this time, he wanted to go.

But he wouldn’t. He jerked his arm away.

“That’s fine. You always were a dickhead. You started that business with your brother and now you think you’re better than the rest of us? Fuck you, Dixon.” David shoved him. They were close enough to Trevor now that he could smell the alcohol on them.

It went right to his head, and he followed his first instinct. He swung. His fist connected with the side of David’s face.

He shouldn’t have done that. He’d known the second he did it. It was his lack of impulse control, but he didn’t have much time to think about it after that. Paul punched him in the face, then David in the stomach. Pain shot through both areas.

Trevor swung again, connecting with someone or something, then another fist hit him right before, “Hey! What’s going on over there?” someone yelled.

Paul and David ran off.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The voice came again. Trevor could feel his lip bleeding. Feel his eye swelling.

He knew this would end fucked up. And somehow, it would be his fault. “I’m fine,” he called before heading for the parking lot, getting into Blake’s truck and driving away.

***

Simon’s phone rang not long after he got to his house. His first thought was that it would be Trevor, but with a glance at the screen, he realized it wasn’t. “What?” he snapped at his ex-wife. It wasn’t until that second that he realized he wanted it to be Trevor. He felt like an ass for leaving the way he had. He didn’t want to fight with Trevor. He deserved better than the way Simon had treated him tonight.

“Whoa. You haven’t sounded like that much of an asshole in at least a month. What’s going on?”

Talking to his ex-wife about this was not on his list of things he wanted to do. “Nothing.”

“You sound like a child. Geez, Simon. It doesn’t hurt to talk to someone. And even if you don’t want to, you can at least act like a grown man about it.”

She was right. He knew that.