And there is no ache. Not even the slightest burn from a cut. It feels easy, as easy as this used to be with him. Maybe it’s ‘cause he’s not butchering me to open up about O’Malley or my parents. He’s leaving that conversation outside the doors. It’s the type of friendship I love. It never asks too much of me. It never rips me open. It just sews me back together. Beckett catches my eyes and says, “Race you?” Like old times.
