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It belongs to whatever grief turned me into.

I swing again.

And again.

I don't know what I'm hitting anymore.

I don't even know if there's anything left to hit.

I just know that if I stop, all of this will still be inside me.

So I don't.

Until suddenly the bat won't come down.

I pull harder.

It doesn't move.

I look behind me.

Jude.

His hands are wrapped around the pink bat, holding it still.

Our eyes meet, and somehow what he sees doesn't scare him.

I pull once, needing one more hit, but he doesn't let go.

And suddenly I can't fight him anymore.

My fingers open.

He takes the bat from my hands and his arms close around me.

He lowers himself onto the floor behind me and pulls me with him.

So I let it all out.

I scream until screaming turns into sobbing, until my body is shaking so hard I can't hold myself upright and Jude is the only thing keeping me from folding completely onto the floor.

Eventually his hand reaches for my helmet.

He removes it carefully and sets it beside us.

Cool air hits my wet face.

I suck in a broken breath.

Then another.

Jude waits.

I don't know how long.

When I finally look at him, his green eyes are already on me, knowing, no judgement.

“Tell me the one thing,” he says quietly.