Just Remember to Breathe (Thompson Sisters)

Sherman and Kelly.
    “So, Sherman… What are your plans? I know you came to visit Dylan, and that’s not exactly turned out how you expected.”
    He yawned, looked up at the ceiling.
    “Not sure yet,” he replied. “I spent a couple weeks with my mom and dad when I got home, but we were driving each other crazy. So I floated down here, thinking to hang out with Dylan, check out Columbia. But… I’m going to finish college. Somewhere.”
    He gave me a speculative look, then said, “I was thinking about Texas, maybe.”
    “Oh really?” I asked.
    “Yeah. Rice seems like a good university. And I met a PhD candidate there who worked really hard to sell me on the place.”
    I grinned. “You two really hit it off.”
    “I wasn’t expecting it,” he said.
    I let out a short laugh. “I’m sure she wasn’t, either.”
    He chuckled. “Carrie says the guys in her graduate program are terrified of her.”
    “I’m not surprised,” I answered. “I always have been.”
    He gave me a puzzled look, eyebrows kind of scrunched together. “Why?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s always so… together. School, life, clothing. Carrie’s always been bigger than life. I’m a little more down to earth.”
    “Well, you can’t go through life thinking people are better than you. Look at Dylan—”
    He cut himself off.
    “What do you mean, look at Dylan?”
    He frowned, then said, “Look, I shouldn’t say anything about all of this. He’d kill me. But you’ve got to realize, he’s never felt like he was good enough for you.”
    What? No. “That’s not true.”
    He nodded. “Yes, it is true. God, you have no idea how much he talked about you over in Afghanistan. Constantly. No offense, but it was pretty damn tiresome. But he’s always said, since the moment that you met, you were way out of his league. And he’d tick off the reasons. You’re rich, he’s dirt poor. You come from some kind of crazy successful family. Your father’s an ambassador or something, right?”
    I nodded.
    “That’s the kind of thing he’d talk about. His dad’s a drunk, and he was always half afraid he’d end up just like his Dad. So he puts all this together, and concludes that he’s not good enough for you. He’s always believed that. And Afghanistan only made it worse.”
    I shook my head. “It’s not true. I mean… yeah, so our families are different. But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s not about who your parents are, or how much money you have. It’s about what you do with who you are.”
    “Well, try convincing him of that. I never could.”
    “I will, if he gives me a chance.”
    Kelly said dryly, “Let him smell your socks. Then he’ll get it.”
    Joel suppressed a laugh, and ended up giving an unconvincing coughing instead.
    “Thank you guys for coming today,” I said, very quietly.
    “Don’t start that,” Kelly said. “This is what friends do.”
    I smiled at her. She could talk all day about what friends do, but where I grew up, that wasn’t true. I didn’t have friends who would go to court for me. Or jail. Or anything else. I was only then starting to realize just how special the bonds I’d formed here were.
    Without a word I reached out and took the hands of my friends. There really weren’t any words for what I felt.

That’s what war is (Dylan)
    Getting out of jail was kind of a reversed process of going in. They didn’t search me on the way out, but otherwise, it was scarily similar. I signed paperwork, collected my phone and wallet and keys, and then I was free to leave.
    I walked out slowly, because I was dreading it. They were probably out there. Sherman, and Alex, and her friends. And they’d seen how savage I’d been.
    I’d done the right thing. I’d protected her. But… I couldn’t stop. I let the rage and anger take over me to the point where if Sherman hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed Randy.
    I would have killed him. No question.
    It’s not that I hadn’t killed before. I had. Three times, that I know of for sure. Others are a little hazier, where I’d fired in the direction of buildings or insurgents under cover, but for those three, I knew for sure.
    Killing was easy. Living with it was difficult.
    When the police finally let me out, they directed me to the elevators, and I was done. Two minutes later I stood in the lobby.
    Alex sat across from me, surrounded by our friends.
    I took a step or two forward, and the full weight of what I was planning