“I’m not.”
“What happened?”
“My brother saw me spiraling.” I point to the road, the dust having settled. “He taught me how to turn all those feelings into something positive, something I could work with.”
“So you ran?”
“I ran and when I couldn’t run I did pushups or sit-ups until I couldn’t do those anymore and then I did something else. I kept going until I could breathe again.” Taking a step forward, I level my gaze with his. “You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to be pissed and hurt, and you’re allowed to just be twelve.”
His eyelids flutter closed and this time when the tears begin to fall, he doesn’t stop them, his lips pressed into a hard line as his body releases it all. Closing the distance between us, I pull him against my chest and hold him, his hands fisting my shirt as he sobs, the adrenaline and the weight of everything coming to a head in this moment.
It’s a whole lot like déjà vu, and I hold him tighter, just like Bodhi held me.
“You’re a good fucking kid, Beck,” I murmur. “The best.”
“I hate him so much,” he breathes, the words barely a whisper but so damn brave to finally be said aloud.
“You need to talk to your mom.” He pulls back and looks at me but doesn’t let go, so I don’t either. “She can’t help you if you don’t tell her what’s going on. Custody is tricky, but you’re old enough to have an opinion, and I’ll support you guys every way I can.”
“Really?” he says and I nod. “Okay,” he breathes, releasing me as he uses his shirtsleeve to dry his face.
“Tell me about the football camp.”
He does, wringing his hands together as he tells me more details than I expect about the program that’s held at BlackstoneUniversity and run in conjunction with the team there. It’s a big deal, his enthusiasm bleeding through the defeat.
“But the signups are closed.” His shoulders slump like it just might be the end of the world.
And it might be.
“How about this,” I say carefully. “Let’s talk to your mom and see what we can figure out. We know a couple of people over at the college, and maybe we can get an extension on the signups.”
“But it’s too much money.”
“We will talk to your mom, because she’s the boss, right? And I would never do anything to disrespect her, so this is entirely her call but…”
“But what?”
“If you’re willing to work for it, I can maybe ask a friend of mine if you can help on the farm. Do you think you’d be up for that?”
“Yes!” he says, a tentative smile curving up his lips.
“The important part is that we talk to your mom and see what she thinks, okay? You guys are a team, and you need to figure out how to communicate because life ishard.”
I put extra emphasis on the word, and he chuckles as he picks up the empty water bottles from the grass.
“Okay. I need to shower and then I’ll apologize to Ma.”
“That’s a good plan. Maybe stop in and say goodnight to your sister—she was worried.”
His eyes are glassy as he nods, and I’m sure he’s gutted thinking he hurt Holland, even indirectly. Again, it’s a feeling I’m very familiar with.
“Hey, Mason?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.” He swallows hard, the bottles crunching in his hand. “I love you.”
Looking up, I blink away the tears, needing to clear my throat twice before slinging my arm over his shoulder and steering us toward the door.
