In the small room, the fluorescent light is anemic, like it’s filtered through dirty water. It shows only what it wants to show, so details—the corners, beneath the table, the grooves in the men’s faces—are not so much in shadow as they are not worth the bother.

The boy—he doesn’t think of himself as a boy, but everyone else in the room does—sits crumpled like a discarded pop can, almost completely still, except when he’s … Keep reading...

You have six new voicemails.

First new voicemail, sent Thursday, April X, XXXX at 10:42 a.m.

Hey.

I know you’re avoiding my calls and that’s okay. I just wanted to call and say, you know, hey. And that I’m thinking about you.

Oh, and I’m about to do something stupid. I mean really stupid. Like jumping off a cliff because all your friends do stupid. (Actually I saw a funny thing about that on the Keep reading...