The Plutos stand together on the curb outside Clint’s Graveyard as a cop car speeds off down the street, taking the gang with no name away.

The two boys cheer and hope they spend more time behind bars than they did today.

The girl regrets her role in all of this. But she’s relieved her insecure, jealous boyfriend didn’t deliver the killing blow. Ex-boyfriend.

While they’re not facing Death themselves, tomorrow everything changes for the Plutos. They will have to restart, something they’ve grown used to doing; their youth is packed with more history than most teens their age. The death of their friend, however it unfolds, will stay with them forever. Entire lives aren’t lessons, but there are lessons in lives.

You may be born into a family, but you walk into friendships. Some you’ll discover you should put behind you. Others are worth every risk.

The three friends hug, a planet missing from their Pluto Solar System—but never forgotten.

RUFUS

7:17 p.m.

We pass the plot where Mateo buried that bird this morning, back when I was still a stranger on a bike. We should be freaking out, big-time, because we’re gonna be on our way out soon too, like old meat, but I’m keeping it together by Mateo’s side and he seems chill too.

Mateo leads the way into his building. “If there’s nothing else you want to do, Roof, I thought we could visit my dad again.”

“You just call me ‘Roof’?”

Mateo nods, and his face scrunches up like he’s told a bad joke. “Thought I would try it out. That okay?”

“Definitely okay,” I say. “That’s a good plan, too. I’m cool with resting for a bit before making that run.” Part of me can’t help but wonder if Mateo is bringing me home so we can have sex, but it’s probably safe to assume sex isn’t on the brain for him.

Mateo is about to press the elevator button until he remembers we’re not about that, especially not this late in the game. He opens the stairwell door and cautiously goes up. The silence is mad heavy between us, step by step. Wish I could challenge him to a race to his apartment, like he imagined for us at Jones Beach, but that’s a surefire way to never actually reach the apartment.

“I miss . . .” Mateo stops on the third floor. I think he’s about to bring up his dad, maybe Lidia. “I miss when I was so young I didn’t know to be afraid of death. I even miss yesterday when I was paranoid and not actually dying.”

I hug him because that says everything when I actually don’t have anything to say. He squeezes me back before we go up the last flight of steps.

Mateo unlocks his front door. “I can’t believe I’m bringing a boy home for the first time and there’s no one here for you to meet.”

How wild would it be if we go in and his dad is on the couch, waiting for him?

We go inside and no one is here except us.

Hope not.

I tour the living room. Not gonna front, I got myself a little nervous, like some old family-friend-turned-enemy is about to pop out because they figured the place was vulnerable with Mateo’s dad in a coma. Everything seems good. I look at Mateo’s class photos. There’s a bunch of photos of him without glasses.

“When’d you have to get glasses?” I ask.

“Fourth grade. I was only teased for about a week, so I was lucky.” Mateo stares at his senior photo, cap and gown, and it’s like he’s looking at a mirror and finding some sci-fi alternate-universe version of himself. I should capture it on camera because it’s dope, but the look on his face only makes me wanna hug him again. “I bet I disappointed my dad by signing up for online classes. He was so proud of me when I graduated, and I’m sure he was hoping I would change my mind, get off the internet, and have the typical college experience.”

“You’ll get to tell him everything you’ve done,” I say. We won’t hang around here long. It’ll mean a lot to Mateo if we see his dad again.

Mateo nods. “Follow me.”

We go down a short hall and into his room.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding from me,” I say. There are books all over the floor, like someone tried robbing the place. Mateo doesn’t seem freaked by it.

“I wasn’t hiding from you.” Mateo crouches and puts the books into piles. “I had a panic attack earlier. I don’t want my dad knowing I was scared when he comes home. I want him to believe I was brave all the way through.”

I get down on my knees and pick up a book. “Is there a system here?”

“Not anymore,” Mateo says.

We put the books back on his shelves and pick up some little trinkets off the floor.

“I don’t like the idea of you being scared either.”

“It wasn’t that bad. Don’t worry about old me.”

I look around his room. There’s an Xbox Infinity, a piano, some speakers, a map I pick up off the floor for him. I’m flattening it out with my fist, thinking about all the dope places Mateo and I have been together, when I spot a Luigi hat on the floor between his dresser and bed. I grab the hat and he grins as I put it on his head.

“There’s the guy who hit me up this morning,” I say.

“Luigi?” Mateo asks.

I laugh and pull out my phone. He doesn’t smile for the camera, he’s legit just smiling at me. I haven’t felt this good about myself since Aimee.

“Photo-shoot time. Go jump on your bed or something.”

Mateo rushes to the bed and leaps, falling face-first. He gets up and jumps and jumps, turning to the window quickly as if some freak bounce accident will launch him out there like a catapult.

I don’t stop taking photos of this awesome, unrecognizable Mateo.

MATEO

7:34 p.m.

I’m out of character and Rufus is loving it. I’m loving it too.

I stop bouncing and stay seated at the edge of the bed, trying to catch my breath. Rufus sits beside me and grabs my hand. “I’m going to sing something for you,” I say. I don’t want to let go of his hand but I promise myself I’ll put both of mine to good use.

I sit in front of my keyboard. “Get ready. This is a once-in-a-lifetime performance.” I look over my shoulder. “Feeling special yet?”

Rufus fakes being unimpressed. “I’m feeling okay. A little tired, actually.”

“Well, wake up and feel special. My dad used to sing this for my mother, though his voice is much better than mine.”

I play the keys for Elton John’s “Your Song” with a pounding heart, though my face isn’t as hot as it was back at Clint’s Graveyard. I’m not kidding when I tell Rufus to feel special. I’m off-key and I don’t care because of him.

I sing about a man making potions in a traveling show, how my gift is my song, sitting on the roof, keeping the sun turned on, the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen, and so much more. I turn during a quick break and catch Rufus filming me on his phone. I smile his way. He comes over and kisses me on my forehead while I sing with him by my side: “I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words . . . how wonderful life is now you’re in the world. . . .”