Can't Say Goodbye

by Eden Finley

I’m just a boy, standing in front of other boys, asking them to fill his holes.”

The only problem is we’ve barely said hello again, and I’m not ready to say goodbye.

As soon as he’s free, Brady jumps up. “That was fun. When’s the next round?” Prescott turns to me. “We might have to take it in shifts to keep Brady satisfied.” I might be boneless. I might be spent. But that’s not going to hold me back. “Challenge accepted.”

The second the three of us are wrapped around each other, it’s relief and happiness. It’s sunshine after a rainstorm. It’s clarity in my heart and calmness of my mind.

I’m beginning to realize that zing, that powerful and overwhelming feeling of serenity and peace only happens when we’re all together. The only time I’ve felt this alive in the last two years has been with them.

But the thing I probably love most about what the three of us have is even in moments of irregularity, I’ve never felt out of place. In fact, with them might be the only place I’ve ever been fully comfortable in my own skin. They embrace who I am. Not who I’m supposed to be. It’s why being away from them always sucks. I don’t know if I can keep doing it before they break me.

“Is it the concussion, or has Brady Talon learned how to be … sweet?” “I’ve always been sweet, buttface.”

My suggestion would be to drop the bomb on a group video chat and then claim connection error and disappear while the rest of us talk about your sex life.” “There you go being the creepy uncle again.”

Nearly spat my food out!

This whole moment is surreal, but nothing has changed. I knew Brady’s dads were famous, and I was totally okay with letting that go because, well, I guess athlete famous is one thing. But Hollywood famous is a whole other league. I’ll just have to keep reminding myself to be cool.

After weeks of having all your weight on your good leg, you’ll be unbalanced for a while.” “Aww, your legs match your mental state,” Kit says.

“Let’s get this boot on you,” Dr. Arodel says, and I want to cry. My face must say so because he adds, “You don’t need to wear it all the time. Just when you’re mobile.” I sigh. “So, all the time?” “You don’t have to wear it when you’re in bed … Wait …” My doctor glances at my two partners. “You don’t have to wear it while you’re sleeping. How’s that?”