“You’re all we have,” he added quietly. “The most important thing. Always.”
I forced a smile.
“I love you.”
“Love you too, buddy.”
A beat.
“You should try reaching out to him again. You two are so close.” He said it carefully. Like he meant it but knew it wasn’t the whole thing. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
I nodded.
Because that’s what I was supposed to do.
Because that’s what normal looked like.
But I already knew.
Everything was not fine.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SIXTEEN YEARS OLD
• • •
Another agonizing week passes and my chest still aches.
I’m so embarrassed.
It’s all my fault.
I shouldn’t have let that happen. Even if it wasn’t on purpose. Even if I couldn’t control it.
I haven’t touched myself in two weeks.
Punishment.
Like that somehow makes me less — wrong.
The verdict: does not help. Do not recommend.
• • •
Another day, my parents pick me up alone.
Another day, I tell them everything’s fine when I feel like digging a hole in the backyard and crawling into it.
RIP Rowan. Stupid idiot who popped a boner on his best friend.
I am a sixteen-year-old boy who got an inconvenient, but natural reaction while wrestling his best friend on a bed and has now spent two weeks punishing himself for it like that does anything.
• • •
I would reach out to Cassian again if it were literally anything else.
We’ve fought before.
