“Sit,” Brady demands, patting the chair he’s angled towards the bed. I do, because I desperately need some direction. “I’ve been thinking about what Blake said earlier about you. Obsessing over it, actually. I think I’ve gone over our entire friendship with a fine-tooth comb in my brain, searching for a moment where I explicitly said something like that to you, so that your robot brain knew I’d be okay if you went sideways. Can’t find it. Isn’t that weird? There were several times you saidit to me, but I just assumed you knew it went both ways.” His brown eyes level me with a look, boring through my skull. “I forget, you’re fucked up like all the rest of us. You just handle it better than most, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some reassurance from me. So I’m saying it now and hoping that you’ll forgive my oversight. You don’t have to be perfect all the time for me to still love you, Ace. You can say the wrong thing, lose your temper or fall off the deep end, and I’ll fish you out every fucking time. Even at your absolute worst, you’re not capable of driving me away because that’s not in you. Trust me, I’d know if it was, and it’s not there. So stop worrying about being perfect with me. I’m too grown and have far too many attachment issues to let something come between you and me. We’re solid. Okay?”
I think it would have been simpler if he dropped me in a wood chipper like a dried out Christmas tree. Because now I’ve been read the riot act in a fucking hospital room. Where do we go from here?
“Okay,” I mutter softly. “You and those fucking monologues.”
He laughs, deep and rich. “People should fear my monologuing. I’m like a Spider-Man villain, except with talking feelings.”
It surprises a chuckle out of me that dissolves quickly into full-blown hysterics on both of our ends. We laugh until I’m not sure where the tears running down our faces are coming from and there’s a serious stitch in my side.
About the time we calm down, the angel herself appears brandishing coffee and pastries. “I think I’m halfway in love with you.” Brady sighs, accepting the offerings like they’re gold.
She grins as I make room for her to share the small armchair with me. “You’re gonna have to cope with that one, friend. Landon does not share well.”
“Only child syndrome,” I decide.
Blakely hums happily. “You’re telling me. Someone’s gotta be the recipient of all that undivided attention and it might as well be me.”
“Really taking one for the team, aren’t you?” Brady teases.
She nods, leaning back against my shoulder and nursing her coffee. “You in it for the long haul with us?” I ask.
“No place I’d rather be, babes.”
I knew that, but it’s nice to hear anyway. I may not have a huge circle of friends, but I wouldn’t trade the two of them for anything. “How did my parents take the news?”
“They’re worried, rightfully so, but they understand that you guys need some space. No one will be showing up unless specifically asked. Your sister sent about a dozen baby pics to your phone, and I’m pretty sure she ordered food to be delivered here, but no pop-ins.”
If I had more energy, I’m positive I’d be flooded with grief. Instead, all I can muster up is a sincere, “Thanks, Blakely.”
Time passes in that strange way that both feels too slow and so fast that I have no hope of keeping up. Doctors and nurses come and go, but my friends never do. They stay; despite the tears and the laughter and the devastating silence where we give up hope. Easton’s condition remains unchanged. They tell us to be patient, his body and mind have been through a lot, after all. But patience is hard when so much hangs in the balance. Life, love, and everything in between, all in the hands of some power that I can’t comprehend or believe in. If it wasn’t so tragic, it would be funny.
The only things holding me together are so simple; the warm weight of Blakely literally glued to my side as we share a chair meant for one, and the fact that Brady laced our pinkies together a while back. The reminder of feeling twenty years old, back in his bedroom on the outskirts of Tampa, and us sharing the sameanchor, smooths out the smallest bit of anxiety looking at the bed brings me.
It’s odd how in the moment where I have nothing that I need, I also have everything. Our survival is based solely on lukewarm caffeine and one girl’s determination to pull everyone through this. I’m not sure if it’s enough, but I’m willing to sit back and let someone else steer this ship for a while, and try to trust that it’s not sinking.
I really hope it’s not.
CHAPTER 4
EASTON
Ithink my parents were right; being gay did send me straight to hell. Everything hurts. Fire is consuming my throat and lungs. My bones are brittle; if I move so much as an inch, they’ll shatter underneath my skin.
The worst part is the voices haunting me, but that’s one they didn’t talk about in Sunday school. Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention because this definitely fits the vibe they were going for with the whole “eternal torture” thing.
The thing is, I know I recognize the voices, know I belong wherever they’re coming from, but it all feels too far away. I’m too tired to fight my way to them. Instead, I just surrender to the siren song that is calling me to sleep.
Mamawants me to hurry up so we can go swimming, but she doesn’t get it. This has to be perfect.
“Whatcha workin’ on?” Brady asks, dropping into the grass in front of me and blocking my sunshine.
I grin. He’s gonna love this, I just know it. “Lookit. It’s us, but turtles. That lil’ one is me and the bigger one is you.”
He leans over so he can see and almost instantly grabs my shoulder and shakes me excitedly. “Easton! This is so cool! Weshould keep them in the garden and maybe some real turtles will find them and wanna live there.”
Showing my brother the stuff I’m working on is better than seeing it when it’s done to me. His reactions are always over-the-top and make my belly feel all warm and fuzzy. “Think they will?” I ask, wondering if he is on to something about live turtles.
Brady hums as he thinks it over. “Hmm. Yeah. I think so. It’s like putting a sign out for them that says we’re turtle-friendly people.”
