For now, I’ll let him carry some of the weight.
I’ve never trusted anyone to do that before.
Thirty
Cullen
Hudson’s been at my house for four days now, and I wish I could say it’s been amazing, but it’s been… weird. He’s here, but not all the way. Like his body showed up, but his spark didn’t.
He still cracks jokes, still leans in for kisses, and slides his fingers between mine, but it all feels like muscle memory. His smiles don’t reach his eyes, and there’s this hesitation in his touch, like he’s second-guessing whether he even has the right to want comfort.
We haven’t gone past some light petting, either, but it’s not the sexual stuff that I miss. It’s the way he used to curl into me like I was something safe. Like he believed I could hold the weight of him without dropping it.
I knew what his dad said cut deep, but I didn’t expect this wall. I wasn’t prepared for the silence in the space between us.
I caught a moment alone with my dad to ask what he thought, and he explained that Hudson usually manages his depression well enough to seem okay on the surface. He called it “high-functioning depression” and rattled off symptoms—loss of interest, low energy, mood swings, irritability. It all tracks. It’s like now that I’m looking for it, I see it everywhere.
Dad told me to be patient, supportive, and encouraging. That it could take days or weeks for him to come out of it. “Or until Eric gets his head out of his ass,” were his exact words.
He also got another note in his locker today, second one this week, but wouldn’t let me read it. Just shoved it in his pocket and pretended it never happened. Except I saw the way he flinched and the fear behind his eyes.
When I asked him about it at lunch, he snapped and told me to mind my business, then walked away. I didn’t follow, sensing he just needed a little space.
I’m coming back upstairs from making us an after-school snack, stopping shy of my cracked bedroom door when I hear Hud on the phone.
My parents gave him the option of staying in the guest room or my room. To my surprise, they didn’t blink when he picked mine. Dad tried to joke, saying “at least I can’t get Hudson pregnant,” but Mom gave himthe look,and he slunk away like a scolded dog. It earned the smallest laugh from Hud, and that felt like a win.
“I don’t want to go, Mom.” You can hear how exhausted he is, like just speaking is a chore.
I tap twice on the door and poke my head in.
Hud waves me over with his free arm, the other covering his eyes. I set down the plate of sandwiches I made and climb onto the bed, lacing our fingers together and brushing a kiss across the back of his hand. A flicker of a smile curves his lips. It’s small, but real. It feels like a gift.
“I went to Junior prom last year. Why does it matter if I skip this one?”
Ah. So that’s what the call’s about. Prom’s this weekend, and it sounds like his mom is pushing him to go.
I give his hand a squeeze. We talked about this a couple of nights ago when my mom brought up tux shopping. Hudson had said he didn’t see the point since we can’t even go together. I told him I’d be happy staying home, eating pizza, and binge-watching all threeLord of the Rings movies if that’s what he wanted.
But I’ve also rented a tux. Just in case.
He sighs into the phone. “Okay, Mom. I’ll go to the tux appointment tomorrow.” He pauses. “I don’t want Dad’s help.No, Cull has a dentist appointment. I’ll see if Ella can go with me.”
He smiles weakly, then ends the call with a tired, “Yeah. Love you, too.”
He tosses his phone to the foot of the bed and groans. “Guess we’re going to prom.”
I smile. “I think it’ll be fun. We can dance with the group and just hang out with everyone. I know it’s not how we pictured it, but we’ll still be there together.”
He sighs but doesn’t say anything.
“You could take Ella as your date,” I say out of the blue. It was a little word vomit, but Hud is close with Ella. Regardless of how I feel about her, I have to admit, she’s been solid for Hudson. I can’t fault her as a friend.
Hud looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You want me to ask Ella to prom?”
I shrug. “Why not? I can be your charming third wheel,” I tease, grinning wide.
Hudson rolls onto his side to face me. His expression is soft but tired. “That’s not fair to you.”
