The Oath We Give (Hollow Boys, #5)

by Monty Jay

The sun bounces off the black sunglasses he’s sporting, and there is a tan on his skin I’ve never seen before. There are a few new tattoos across his chest, and it makes me think of all we’ve missed in each other’s lives due to distance. However, his smirk is still Rook, still the same kid I’ve always known. Thatcher: Your chest looks like a middle school desk. Rook: I’ve hugged cactus nicer than you. I scoff at the back of my throat. The two of them have yet to grow out of their boyish bickering. Unless someone stops it, they will go on forever until someone’s feelings get hurt, and it most definitely will be Rook’s. All of Thatcher’s feelings are tied up in Lyra. He doesn’t have any left for the rest of us. Alistair: Shut the fuck up. There he is. Daddy Caldwell to the rescue. I’m surprised he didn’t tell Rook to wear sunscreen. We’ve grown apart, but at our core, we’ll know each other until we are gray. Time, space, distance, death. None of it will ever take away what we know for certain—that we know each other at the core of our beings. It’s never something we say out loud, just a foregone conclusion. We are who we are. No matter where we go or how we change, there will always be this knotted, twisted string tangling each of us together. What we found in each other as kids is something we refuse to ever let go of. They are brothers to me. Each of them. Thicker than any blood.