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Who’s Crazy Now?
Last Updated:
2025-01-04 13:23:04Related chapters
The Boy Who Died Never Again
Marcie“Thanks for squeezing me in.” I smile tightly as I step into Dana’s office the next day.“It’s no issue at all.” Her answering smile is much more earnest. “I was planning on doing paperwork this weekend anyway. You’ve just given me an excuse to drive in and actually get done quickly.”I take my usual seat on the couch and fidget with the drawstring on my sweatpants. My head pounds, and I feel like death warmed over. Hangover breakfast wasn’t nearly enough to pick me up after the night I had. Especially because I have to walk to Dana’s office, and Ben-Ryan could be anywhere.She pulls out her notebook and takes her regular seat across from me. I might be crazy—I definitely am crazy—but she almost looks excited to see me. Maybe she just knows I’m ready to stop lying to her.“I went to the rivalry game last night,” I start.And the whole awful story tumbles out. She tuts when I admit I was drinking but doesn’t say anything specific about my meds. She asks if this is the same Ben f
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Falling Down
BenWhen they first let me out of bed after my accident, I was starving for information. Mom told me all sorts of stories about myself, but there was a whole world to learn. And my ability to go to college in the fall hinged on how quickly I could re-learn it. So I told Mom I picked up a summer job and started people-watching.In the morning, I would go to the nearest park and wait for someone interesting to walk by. Then, I’d follow them. Copy their walk. Listen to the conversations they had and fill in the blanks they left. Figure out their lives like the whole world was a puzzle, and if I placed enough of the pieces, the life I didn’t remember would appear in shadow between them.WhileI referred to it as people-watching, the old man who brought the case against me called it stalking. He dropped it when Mom explained. After that, she began teaching me the rules for seeming normal. I never meant anything by it, so I stopped people-watching right away. I haven’t done it since then.Th
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Not Going Alone
MarcieAfter therapy, I stand in front of my apartment door for a long moment. The Arkly is putting out a special paper tonight for the game, so Heather is at the office. Theresa told me a while ago that she splits Sundays between family time and grading, so I shouldn’t call if I actually want to talk. Everett was really nice last night, but I can’t exactly call him my friend. Which means as soon as I walk inside, I’ll be alone.With my thoughts. And the sinking feeling I can’t just avoid this problem.Something crashes on a lower floor, and I jump. It’s a trash can lid. I memorized that sound ages ago. But right now, it feels like anything could be Ben-Ryan coming to get me. Maybe being alone isn’t so bad after all. I shove my key into the lock and open the door quickly.“Hey,” Heather calls from the kitchen.I blink. “Uh, hi?”“Sorry, I was gonna text, but I literally just walked in.” She pads out of the kitchen, still dressed for work and carrying a bag of chips. “Scott closed the
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died What the Fuck?
BenSomething in my chest reverberates when she says the name Ryan. Something else twangs when the SUV whips into the road. I don’t know what to do with any of it, or the insane implication that a football player has been running forensic tests on me in secret.None of that matters now.“Get in the car!” I shout.Marcie, Heather, and Everett just look from me to the SUV. One of its windows buzzes down, and something dark pokes out. Neurons I don’t remember having fire. That’s the muzzle of a gun.No time left. I grab Marcie’s upper arm—the meathead doesn’t even try to stop me—and start yanking her toward my car. Theirs is across the street, and we need anything that’ll stand in the way of us and bullets, even a crappy sedan. Marcie moves when I pull her like she was waiting for instructions. Heather and Everett spur into motion. I slam into the driver’s seat, toss Marcie in the passenger’s. The back door is still open when the first bullets fly.In movies, bullets always sound so spec
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Ryan
MarcieI feel like I’m in the eye of a storm as I stare around the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Sycamore. Everett is saying something about property values and what this place used to be, but I can’t pay attention.I’ve spent years falling apart at the slightest provocation. At a blond guy in the wrong place, at a cologne I haven’t smelled since—Ryan.Who’s walking next to Everett with his hands in his pockets, who I’ve fallen for every time I met him. I’ve spent years falling apart, and I don’t know what it means, but right now, I’ve never felt more together. Heather sniffles next to me, clutching my hand. Everett seems to be babbling because he can’t figure out anything else to do. But I’m not worried.And I might not be crazy either.“So, anyway, we could hit up the northeast quadrant?” Everett shrugs. “Heard my dad say something about a foreman or a surveyor or something starting over there. They might have some shit.”Ryan nods. I can’t call him anything else now. He
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Lily
RyanMy heart aches. That name echoes in my chest. “No.”Marcie swipes her tears away. “I think you do, somewhere in there, or you wouldn’t have come to Ardent.”“I want to.” I squeeze her hips, anchoring myself in her. “Tell me… something. About him.”“About you.” She smiles softly. “When you moved to town in first grade, someone accidentally sent your mom the second-grade supply list, so you showed up on the first day with all this stuff other people didn’t have. Markers and glue sticks and shit.”Another echo. Back in the hospital, right after I woke up, the doctors said things would feel familiar before I actually remembered them, but they never did. Was this what they meant all along?“Your cubby was right above Theresa’s,” she continues.“Theresa?” The word feels familiar on my tongue. “T?”Marcie’s eyes light up. “That’s what we called her, yeah. Lil, Ry, and T.”They all sound familiar. No memories, but the unavoidable feeling I know those names. I’ve said them all before. My
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Fearless
Ryan“Fuck!” I leap up, toss a T-shirt to Lily, and sprint for the door between this room and the one with the table and chairs, hoping to shut it. I don’t have a plan past that. The reason we picked the second office is because it has no other entrances or exits, not even windows.Someone fires a gun, and I throw myself to the side. The bullet thuds into something, and thank fuck, Lily doesn’t scream. No matter what else I remember—or what I’ve recognized—I know immediately that my body isn’t used to this. I wasn’t secretly dodging bullets while everyone else was in eighth grade. Which means I’ve pretty much got Ben’s skills to rely on.We’re fucked.“Present yourselves, and we’ll handle this cleanly,” a feminine voice says.“Dana?” Lily whispers.I glance at her. She’s put my T-shirt on, but it barely reaches mid-thigh on her. And she looks completely lost. So am I. I don’t know anyone named Dana, or—No, I kind of know that voice. I heard it once. My skin goes cold as I place it wi
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Staring Crazy in the Face
MarcieI sprint down one of the identical halls of this part of the warehouse, Ryan’s T-shirt whipping around my otherwise naked body, my heart hammering in my throat.Being shot at from an SUV was crazy. Finding Ryan was crazy. The shooters following us to this warehouse is crazy. But one of the shooters, one of the people who tried to kill Ryan in the first place, being the therapist I’ve trusted with my life nearly every day of the past six years?I’m starting to think I don’t actually know what the word crazy means anymore.Scott thunders after Ryan, and I pray he’s got more of a plan than running and hiding. The “newspaper editor” looks furious.Oh, fuck, did he kill Mrs. Mathers?Heels click along the hallway behind me, and I put all thoughts of the ex-editor out of my mind. Apparently, my bare feet aren’t quiet enough. Dana—if that’s actually her name—is coming after me.I blink, and I’m in that crappy little park on prom night, watching two women drag Ryan away. Was she really
Last Updated : 2025-01-04
Latest chapter
The Boy Who Died Where It Started
LilyAt the end of our two weeks with Ryan’s mom, I’m lying in the bed in our hotel room waiting for him. I’m completely exhausted. Since he’s been going over there almost every day, I’ve been amusing myself with what there is to do around Galesburg, and there’s really not a lot. I’m bored enough that being bored makes me tired, but we’re finally leaving tomorrow. Heading back to Ardent, because I still have a lease, though we haven’t really talked about what happens next for us.I guess I could’ve kept going to his mom’s house, but watching the two of them reunite has been… weird. I just keep thinking about my mom, whom I cut off with everyone else. She didn’t even kill my dad via choices she might’ve been manipulated into making. I’ve picked up my phone half a dozen times, intending to text her and see how things are. But I don’t know what follows that. I can’t imagine going back to Dillsboro for the holidays, reappearing at family gatherings like nothing happened. It just kind of f
The Boy Who Died Coming Home
RyanThe day after they release me from the hospital, I drum my fingers on my knees as the suburban streets I thought I knew all my life but really only knew for six years whip by outside. Heather and Everett dug up nearly everything I could want to know about Julia and Arthur Daugherty but much less about their apparent partner, Marissa McGuire. Or Beverly Evers. Or Laurel Andrews. My mother.Lily puts her hand on mine. “Stop fidgeting. If you mess up your stitches, they’re going to kill me.”I smile. “Kill you? Why? I thought your quick thinking saved my life?”She shakes her head. “It was a through-and-through, and it only got your large intestine. Painful, likely to get infected, but not immediately deadly.”“We waited their ten days!” I tap my other fingers on my other knee, even though it makes the recently stitched surgical scar in my side burn.“I am driving.” She scowls at me quickly. “Do you want to not die in another car crash, just to prove that you’re immortal?”“Sorry!”
The Boy Who Died Last Chance
LilyIf I thought running through this warehouse was torture with Dana chasing me, I was an idiot.“Ryan!” I scream.Still no answer. I retrace my steps back to our little hideout, take off in the same direction he did. My heart hammers. Is he hurt? Should I have taken the gun? Am I going to round the next corner and come face-to-face with Scott—Arthur? Am I already too late?I pour on whatever speed I have left, looking for any clue.There! That stupid cheese dust Ryan threw at them, smeared on the wall. I hang a sharp right.“Ryan!” I shout again.Nothing. With each step, I feel like I’m falling through time. The park on prom night. The car before his funeral, when I refused to go. The street I almost followed the hallucination into. The time I got lost on a field trip, and he was the only one to come looking for me. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.I am not going to lose him again.The smell of iron pulls me to an open office. I whip inside and skid in a puddle of blood.Blood spatters like it ne
The Boy Who Died Staring Crazy in the Face
MarcieI sprint down one of the identical halls of this part of the warehouse, Ryan’s T-shirt whipping around my otherwise naked body, my heart hammering in my throat.Being shot at from an SUV was crazy. Finding Ryan was crazy. The shooters following us to this warehouse is crazy. But one of the shooters, one of the people who tried to kill Ryan in the first place, being the therapist I’ve trusted with my life nearly every day of the past six years?I’m starting to think I don’t actually know what the word crazy means anymore.Scott thunders after Ryan, and I pray he’s got more of a plan than running and hiding. The “newspaper editor” looks furious.Oh, fuck, did he kill Mrs. Mathers?Heels click along the hallway behind me, and I put all thoughts of the ex-editor out of my mind. Apparently, my bare feet aren’t quiet enough. Dana—if that’s actually her name—is coming after me.I blink, and I’m in that crappy little park on prom night, watching two women drag Ryan away. Was she really
The Boy Who Died Fearless
Ryan“Fuck!” I leap up, toss a T-shirt to Lily, and sprint for the door between this room and the one with the table and chairs, hoping to shut it. I don’t have a plan past that. The reason we picked the second office is because it has no other entrances or exits, not even windows.Someone fires a gun, and I throw myself to the side. The bullet thuds into something, and thank fuck, Lily doesn’t scream. No matter what else I remember—or what I’ve recognized—I know immediately that my body isn’t used to this. I wasn’t secretly dodging bullets while everyone else was in eighth grade. Which means I’ve pretty much got Ben’s skills to rely on.We’re fucked.“Present yourselves, and we’ll handle this cleanly,” a feminine voice says.“Dana?” Lily whispers.I glance at her. She’s put my T-shirt on, but it barely reaches mid-thigh on her. And she looks completely lost. So am I. I don’t know anyone named Dana, or—No, I kind of know that voice. I heard it once. My skin goes cold as I place it wi
The Boy Who Died Lily
RyanMy heart aches. That name echoes in my chest. “No.”Marcie swipes her tears away. “I think you do, somewhere in there, or you wouldn’t have come to Ardent.”“I want to.” I squeeze her hips, anchoring myself in her. “Tell me… something. About him.”“About you.” She smiles softly. “When you moved to town in first grade, someone accidentally sent your mom the second-grade supply list, so you showed up on the first day with all this stuff other people didn’t have. Markers and glue sticks and shit.”Another echo. Back in the hospital, right after I woke up, the doctors said things would feel familiar before I actually remembered them, but they never did. Was this what they meant all along?“Your cubby was right above Theresa’s,” she continues.“Theresa?” The word feels familiar on my tongue. “T?”Marcie’s eyes light up. “That’s what we called her, yeah. Lil, Ry, and T.”They all sound familiar. No memories, but the unavoidable feeling I know those names. I’ve said them all before. My
The Boy Who Died Ryan
MarcieI feel like I’m in the eye of a storm as I stare around the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Sycamore. Everett is saying something about property values and what this place used to be, but I can’t pay attention.I’ve spent years falling apart at the slightest provocation. At a blond guy in the wrong place, at a cologne I haven’t smelled since—Ryan.Who’s walking next to Everett with his hands in his pockets, who I’ve fallen for every time I met him. I’ve spent years falling apart, and I don’t know what it means, but right now, I’ve never felt more together. Heather sniffles next to me, clutching my hand. Everett seems to be babbling because he can’t figure out anything else to do. But I’m not worried.And I might not be crazy either.“So, anyway, we could hit up the northeast quadrant?” Everett shrugs. “Heard my dad say something about a foreman or a surveyor or something starting over there. They might have some shit.”Ryan nods. I can’t call him anything else now. He
The Boy Who Died What the Fuck?
BenSomething in my chest reverberates when she says the name Ryan. Something else twangs when the SUV whips into the road. I don’t know what to do with any of it, or the insane implication that a football player has been running forensic tests on me in secret.None of that matters now.“Get in the car!” I shout.Marcie, Heather, and Everett just look from me to the SUV. One of its windows buzzes down, and something dark pokes out. Neurons I don’t remember having fire. That’s the muzzle of a gun.No time left. I grab Marcie’s upper arm—the meathead doesn’t even try to stop me—and start yanking her toward my car. Theirs is across the street, and we need anything that’ll stand in the way of us and bullets, even a crappy sedan. Marcie moves when I pull her like she was waiting for instructions. Heather and Everett spur into motion. I slam into the driver’s seat, toss Marcie in the passenger’s. The back door is still open when the first bullets fly.In movies, bullets always sound so spec
The Boy Who Died Not Going Alone
MarcieAfter therapy, I stand in front of my apartment door for a long moment. The Arkly is putting out a special paper tonight for the game, so Heather is at the office. Theresa told me a while ago that she splits Sundays between family time and grading, so I shouldn’t call if I actually want to talk. Everett was really nice last night, but I can’t exactly call him my friend. Which means as soon as I walk inside, I’ll be alone.With my thoughts. And the sinking feeling I can’t just avoid this problem.Something crashes on a lower floor, and I jump. It’s a trash can lid. I memorized that sound ages ago. But right now, it feels like anything could be Ben-Ryan coming to get me. Maybe being alone isn’t so bad after all. I shove my key into the lock and open the door quickly.“Hey,” Heather calls from the kitchen.I blink. “Uh, hi?”“Sorry, I was gonna text, but I literally just walked in.” She pads out of the kitchen, still dressed for work and carrying a bag of chips. “Scott closed the
