I pull up to the Price's house, their spare key tucked in its hiding spot.
"Time for an upgrade, buddy," I mutter, stacking the pizzas in the freezer.
The Xbox setup gives my hands something to do, downloading the new games James has been wanting to try but never bought for himself, while my mind circles the same tired track. How did we miss this? How many late-night gaming sessions did we waste on surface-level bullshit when James was drowning right next to us?
Funny how watching your best friend break makes you realize how stupid it is to live in fear of failure. When Pixel Dreams fast-tracked everything after I called them, it felt like a sign. Matt and Sarah didn't even hesitate offering their spare room in Boston.
But let's be honest, James wasn't the only wake-up call. Ivy ripped me apart, laid out every truth I'd been running from. The worst part? She wasn't wrong. About any of it. That's why I'm actually following through this time instead of just dreaming about it. Because I can't stand being the guy she described anymore.
The familiar Black Rose sign comes into view, and my stomach twists as I push through the door, but not from our usual banter. This is goodbye, and we both know it.
Brodie glances up from his station, dark hair falling in his eyes as he sets aside the sketch he's working on. "Thought you'd be at the hospital."
"Couldn't." The word scrapes out. "Feels wrong, you know? Running away to Boston while James is barely holding it together."
"That's not what you're doing." Brodie's fingers tap against his thigh. "Though maybe actually visiting him would help with the guilt."
"I tried." My voice cracks. "Got as far as the parking lot and cafeteria."
"Coward." The word lands without bite, just understanding from the guy who's been showing up every day while the rest of us fumbled through this crisis.
"Yeah, well." I sink into the chair opposite him, trying not to stare at the tattoo needle next to him. "Add it to my greatest hits album.Songs About Running Away When Shit Gets Real."
A ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth. "Featuring your new single, 'I Ghosted My Best Friend in the Hospital'?"
"With bonus track, 'Can't Even Say Goodbye to the Girl I Love.'" The attempt at humor falls flat. "Though you probably heard all about that from Ivy already."
"Haven't really seen her. She's been with Daphne most days."
"Yeah." I study the fresh ink staining his fingers, easier than meeting his eyes.
"So, when's the Boston exodus happening?"
"Tonight."
"What did Greg say about it all?"
"That's the weird part." I shake my head, still amazed. "He actually hugged me. Like, a real hug, not one of those awkward man-pats. Said he was proud of me for taking the chance. We're not . . . fixed, exactly. But we're trying. Both of us."
He starts cleaning his station, methodical movements that have become as much ritual as necessity. "James would wantyou to go."
"Yeah, but—"
"No buts. You staying here won't fix him. Just like you avoiding Ivy won't fix what happened between you."
"I told her everything she needed to hear the other night."
"You mean when you word-vomited all your issues at the bowling alley?" His eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "Real romantic."
"Better than nothing."
"Is it?" He sets down the cleaning cloth with more force than necessary. "Because you're doing the same thing you always do. Running before anyone can see you're actually scared."
"I'm trying to do better."
"I know." His expression softens. "But part of doing better is actually saying goodbye properly. To both of them."
"I can't."
