Nothing Between Us by Roni Loren

not a counselor added to the mix. So from the very beginning, Guthrie had made it clear what he thought of “a washed-up musician counseling young, vulnerable minds.” The ire had only grown when it’d become obvious that the kids gravitated more toward Colby’s no-nonsense approach than Dr. Guthrie’s cool, clinical tactics.
    Now all of Colby’s students would get moved to Guthrie’s caseload—temporarily in the best-case scenario, permanently if Colby’s position was eliminated altogether. The thought made him want to throw things. The faces of the students he counseled each week flipped through his head like a slide show on fast-forward. Kids who had come to trust him, kids who had made hard-fought progress, kids who didn’t need another change in their already unstable lives. Kids who were a lot like him when he was that age.
    He wasn’t under the impression that he was the only one who could help them. But knowing that he
could
be the one was what got him up every morning, what kept old demons at bay.
    But he hadn’t helped Travis on Friday. Just like he hadn’t helped Adam Keats. Maybe he’d gotten too confident that he knew what he was doing.
    “I understand,” he said, the fight draining out of him.
    Principal Anders gave another terse nod, as if putting a period on the end of her declaration. “Thank you, Colby. Hopefully, this won’t go too far or for too long. His parents are understandably upset and panicked. They’re going to want to find blame everywhere else. We’re the easiest targets.”
    No,
he
was the easiest target. And maybe it wasn’t unfounded. He should’ve asked Travis about his medication. He should’ve grabbed his file to see if there were any hot points to check in on. Maybe instead of trying to put him at ease by getting him to talk about music, he should’ve asked him different questions. “I’ll get my files and go over them with Dr. Guthrie so he can be up to date on my students.”
    Guthrie slapped his thighs and stood. “No need. I’ve already had them moved to my office. Your students will be shifted onto my calendar starting today.”
    Well, wasn’t he the eager beaver. Apparently, Rowan had called him first and had everything taken care of before Colby walked in. It was like being fired only without the pink slip. Everyone knew it was going to happen except you.
    After Guthrie strolled out, Colby stood and headed for the door.
    “Colby?”
    He looked back to Rowan. She’d stood as well and her cool principal mask softened into one more human. “For what it’s worth, I know that if you had suspected he was in real trouble, you would’ve reported it.”
    He nodded.
    But he heard what she didn’t say.
Maybe you should’ve suspected.
    They were words he’d heard before.

FOUR
    “You playing tonight, Wilkes?”
    Colby looked over to the left at the man who’d leaned against the bar and posed the question. Jenner Bodine smiled back at him, toothpick clenched in his teeth. Colby took another sip from his whiskey. “Nope. Jus’ drinking. You?”
    Had his words slurred? He couldn’t tell anymore.
    “Yeah, I’m onstage next. Filling in for an act that had to cancel.” He glanced out at the empty seats in the bar. “I hate playing on Mondays. Only the real dedicated drunks show up on a Monday.”
    Colby raised his glass in salute.
    Jenner laughed. “Wow, the hard stuff, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anything but beer.”
    Yeah, and Colby’s brain was feeling the effects. He could handle his liquor, but he’d been here since early afternoon and things were getting a little fuzzy around the edges now. Good. If there was ever a time to get shit-faced, it was the day one of your students almost fucking died—and you realized it might have been partly your fault. All he kept thinking about was how if Travis’s father hadn’t chosen Thai food for dinner that night, Travis would’ve been dead this morning. A sixteen-year-old kid. Dead. Two