They should. He should tell Jake about everything that had been on his mind. But right then, he was still much too close to that deep, dark abyss of terrible memories that wanted to swallow him up. And he knew he couldn’t.
Maybe a movie would be just distracting enough that he’d manage to fall asleep. Probably not, but maybe.
He pushed himself up to sit and scooted until his back was against the headboard, wrapping his arms around his midsection. Jake was still standing there, watching him, and Rye pursed his lips and gave a small nod.
Jake’s eyes brightened just a little at that, and he grinned and turned back to the TV, clicking a button on the remote.
“Alright, let’s see what they’ve got, huh?”
They settled on some silly animated movie that Jake said Phil had recommended—something that seemed lighthearted enough—and Jake grabbed each of them a bottle of water from the tiny fridge in their room before he settled back on his own bed.
Rye scooted closer to the middle of his bed and propped himself up on a pile of pillows. Then he tried his best to get lost in the movie and let himself forget all the things that had been keeping him up.
He didn’t quite succeed, but when he heard Jake snoring softly from the other bed an hour or so into the movie, at least he was able to smile a little.
Mom (8:46 a.m.):Change of plans! I got stuck working the later shift today, so I won’t be home when you get here. But if you and Jake want to stop in at the store on your way home, I’d love to see you and give you the biggest hug. I’m so proud of you. I know I told you that yesterday, but I’m gonna say it again and again
Mom (8:46 a.m.):SO PROUD!!!!
Rye sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at his mom’s texts. He could feel her joy, and that made him happy, despite all the unease still lingering with him from the night before.
“Sure you’re not going to join me?” Jake asked, and Rye turned to look at his friend, lifting his eyebrows skeptically. Jake lay on the floor on his stomach, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he grinned. “I’ve only got the push-ups left. You can do those, yeah? Well, I mean, I’ve got my PT stuff, too, but you wouldn’t be doing those exercises anyway.”
Rye shook his head. “I’ll just watch you, I think,” he said, and when Jake huffed a laugh, Rye managed a smile, which felt good.
He quickly sent a short text to his mom, telling her he’d ask Jake if they could stop by on their way home, and then he set his phone back down on the nightstand and scooted back on the bed to sit cross-legged, watching as Jake finished his morning exercises with a long, long set of way too many push-ups.
He found himself watching maybe a bit too intently, staring at Jake’s upper arms. The muscles bulged and rippled underneath Jake’s short-sleeved T-shirt as he slowly lowered and raised himself with each push-up. And it left Rye almost a little dazed, an odd warmth growing in his cheeks.
Minutes later, Rye was still staring when Jake blew out a long breath with his final push-up, then collapsed onto the ground and rolled over onto his back.
“Ugh, those weren’t easy today,” Jake complained.
Rye tore his gaze away from Jake’s arms and laughed lightly. “Are they easyanyday?”
“Well, I mean, sort of?” Jake turned his head to look in Rye’s direction, and he lifted up an arm to run his hand through his hair. His arm muscles did that thing again. Rye’s cheeks felt even hotter.
“I don’t know that I believe you,” Rye quipped, though his voice caught.
“Hah, fair. I guess it’s just usually easier to push through the last few?” With a grimace, Jake pushed up off the ground, pulled his good leg under him, and stood. “Sorry I’m not ready to go yet. I can probably get everything else done in fifteen or twenty minutes if I hurry, then I’ll need to take a quick shower before we leave. Is that okay?”
Rye nodded in response, and Jake moved to place his hand on the wall. Then he stood on one foot—his bad leg—linked his other foot behind his ankle, and raised his heel up off the ground. He continued repeating the motion, but Rye noticed his jaw was clenched, and he’d looked away, his eyes trained down at the ground and his expression taut.
“Are you okay?” Rye asked quietly. “Does it hurt?”
Jake almost flinched a little but then cleared his throat. “Nah, um, I’m just a bit stiff.” When Rye raised his eyebrows, Jake shook his head. “Sorry, uh, I keep doing that, don’t I? I keep telling you a... half-truth because I don’t want to worry you or anything. I shouldn’t do that.”
Rye shook his head and scooted to the end of the bed to be closer to where Jake was.
Still doing his heel raises, Jake corrected himself. “Iamhurting a bit more than I normally would be. That’s the truth. But I’m okay. I’m not sure why I’m feeling a little self-conscious about it. I usually don’t.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t watch you,” Rye suggested, starting to scoot back again, but Jake let out a short laugh and lowered his heel back to the ground.
“It’s okay. Really.” He sat down on the floor and lay on his back with his knees bent up. Then he turned his head sideways to look at Rye as he started doing his second exercise, some sort of whole-leg lift. “It’s not like you haven’t already seen me at my worst.”
Rye narrowed his eyes in confusion, and Jake turned his head away to stare up at the ceiling as he continued his exercise.
“That day when you were still stuck at my place because of the rain, and I fell,” Jake explained. “You had to help me up. And you made us tea and got us breakfast and everything.”
