"AND YOU'RE ALL good," the nurse says, finishing up with taping the gauze on Roman's nose. "Good thing it was a clean break. Made my job a lot easier. You stay out of trouble young man, you hear me?"

        Roman's eyes are on me as he answers. "Yes ma'am," he rasps. I fold my hands in my lap.

        As soon as the nurse leaves, apologies fall from my lips. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened. I mean, I know I hit you but I didn't mean to, it's just you got under my skin and next thing I know my fist was hitting your face, and holy crap, your nose is broken."

        He presses an ice pack to the injury, laughing softly. "It's not the first time this has happened, all right? Quit whining."

        "I'm violent. I am a violent person," I mutter dejectedly. "You should hit me back. Why haven't you hit me back?"

Roman laughs softly, sliding back into his jacket and walking out of the hospital room. I trail behind him tentatively. "Look, obviously you were taking something out on me. It's my own fault; I shouldn't have pushed so hard."

I balk, crossing my arms. "Roman, I broke your nose."

He turns to me just as we reach the hospital doors. "Yeah, well. Something inside of you is broken as well. And that's not your fault."

He pushes the door open and I sigh before walking through it, the cool night air icy on my skin. "Robyn was right. You are my gay sherpa."

Roman chuckles before reaching into his pocket. I watch with wide eyes as he pulls out a lighter and a cigarette, the picture of nonchalance as he takes a drag. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Nicotine? In front of a hospital?" I shout.

Roman leaves the stick in his mouth as he glares at me. "Braylen, I currently can't feel my nose. I think I deserve a cigarette."

"It'll kill you."

"I'll quit before it does."

I shake my head. "That's not how it works. You don't get to decide when something kills you. It just does."

        Roman looks over at me. There's a glint in his eyes that I'm not sure I like. "That's the first real thing you've said to me all day."

        I shrug my shoulders, staring at the emptying street instead of his face. "You were right. Everything you said. I know I'm not myself and I don't think I ever can be again," I admit. There was no feeling in my voice. It was all matter of fact. "But if you think I'm going to get in a onesie and tell you how bad it sucks that my boyfriend killed himself while we're binge-watching Nicholas Sparks movies, you've got another thing coming."

        I finally turn to look at him only to find him staring back at me. "All right. Then that plan is out the window," he jokes, sending me a sarcastic smile. I absolutely hate myself for smiling back. "Here. Give me your phone."

         I hand him the device and watch as he types something into it before handing it back to me. "As I said, you've got a solid punch. And since Sparks movies and onesies aren't gonna cut it, maybe letting out some of that anger will do you some good."

        "I'm not angry," I mutter.

        "You are. We all are. About something, one way or another," Roman argues, blowing smoke from his nose. "Look, I'm at the gym almost every day, save for weekends."

        I scrunch my nose in disgust. "The gym?"

        "The boxing gym," he amends, a laugh in his eyes. "Hit me up if you want to come sometime. All right?"

        I fiddle with the phone in my hands, keeping my eyes trained on it. "You know, that nurse said you should keep out of trouble. These days I feel that's all I am to anybody."

        Roman smiles once as he stomps out his cigarette. "Not to me."

        Then he's giving me a two-finger salute and climbing onto his motorcycle, revving up the engine, and driving away.

¥

        There were three reasons why we always met up to hang out at Devin Forrester's house.

        Number one, his parents were never home and if they were, they kept far away. Far, far, far away. I'm pretty sure they'd hop the fence if they could. His older sister was long since moved out, too, which meant an empty house always.

        Number two, he has the best snacks. Fruit, ice cream, pretzels, vegetables. If you're into that, I guess. His private chef named Mary kept my stomach full and my heart happy. Plus, she was a decent chess player. Nowhere near as good as me, but decent.

       Number three. It was the perfect place for us to be lonely together.

        I'd lost a boyfriend but he lost his best friend, a brother. Neither of us was all that keen on sharing our feelings with one another but we'd sort of became each other's rocks during this time. Last summer, especially. I had Robyn, yes, but there was always a part of her that disliked Sebastian for what he put me through before we began dating. Devin was the only person who loved him even a fraction as much as me.

        He and I had become close in a way I hadn't expected. He'd always been nothing but kind to me but this was something more. This was a kind of bond that could only be born out of heartbreak, out of trauma. One that Hunter or Hayley or Robyn would never really get.

        We were perched in Devin's bedroom—one of five, actually—with him and Robs cuddled on the bed, me sat on the floor by the window, and Hayley and Hunt taking opposite sides of the room. They'd had a pretty messy breakup at the end of last summer and I was 99% sure neither of them was entirely over the other. From where I stood, it seemed that Hunter was angry that Hayley decided to transfer schools to go to beauty school in New York and she was angry he hadn't supported her dreams. Either way, I was glad they were at least attempting to put their egos aside for the summer. It wouldn't be the same without either of them.

        "I cannot believe you punched the pretty bartender's nose," Robyn giggles, playing with Devin's fingers. "You actually broke it?"

        I sigh softly. "I didn't mean to, okay?"

        "He sounds like a prick. Sounds to me like he deserved it," Devin grumbles.

        I can feel myself getting defensive very quickly. "He's not a prick. He's helped me out loads of times before; he's nice."

        "Yeah, well, anyone that goes out of their way to make you feel bad isn't exactly the cream of the crop to me," Devin argues. "The boxing thing could be a good idea, though."

        Hayley chuckles. "He already broke someone's nose, Dev. What's next, a jaw?"

        Hunter looks over at her before turning his eyes to me. "I think it's cool, too. You could be like Muhammad Ali. Or Jake Paul."

        "You did not just say those two names in the same context," Robyn laughs. We all join her and when it dies out, Robs is serious. "I think maybe you should try dating again."

        Flashes of red enter my brain. "You're not for real, are you?"

        She and Devin share a glance before they both sit up to a sitting position. "Dude, it has been a year," Robyn mumbles.

        "No, it hasn't," I argue. "I didn't know there was a damn timeline I had to follow."

        "There's not," Hayley murmurs. "But maybe it'll help, you know? Seeing other people. You can't move on if you don't at least try."

        I scoff. I turn to Devin with expectant eyes. "What do you think?"

        He bristles uncomfortably. "B, you know all I want is for you to be happy. Maybe you're not ready to be in a relationship again but I know for a fact that you're not happy alone. It can't hurt to meet some people."

        "You should try Grindr," Hunter interjects after an awkward moment of silence. "That's what my roommate uses. He's gay and lonely, like you."

        I glare at Hunter. "I like girls too, Hunter. And I'm not lonely. I'm fine."

        I stuff my mouth with Hot Cheetos and withdraw from the conversation. I couldn't picture myself with anyone but Sebastian. How could they expect me to? How could Devin expect me to?

        Everyone heads out about an hour later since Devin has some event he needs to get ready for. I'm the last out of the house and before I leave, Devin grabs my arm. "Hey, look," he murmurs. "I know you're upset with me."

        I make my eyes big. "Pretty and smart. Robyn is so lucky."

        Devin sighs loudly. "You're not going to believe this, Adams, but I care about you, okay? More than I do for a lot of people. And I mean that."

        Something in his tone made me feel bad. I nod softly. "I know, Devin."

        "Good," Devin responds. "Good, because he loved you, Braylen. But he's not the only one that can. You've got to start living again. I need you to start living again. You got me?"

        I lean my head against the doorway, the cool evening air blowing against my back. "It's not that easy, Dev. I've tried—"

        "You haven't. You don't talk to me, you don't talk to Robs. At least not about him. You show up places looking like you're halfway there, like half of you is dead with him. You only go to therapy because Oba makes you. You're existing, B. But you are not living."

        I clench my jaw. "I'll try to do better."

        Devin smiles sadly. "I know you will. Because you care about me, too."

        I chuckle once and wrap my arms around Devin. He squeezes me back tightly before pulling away, a soft smile on his face. "Now get out of here, you idiot."

        I roll my eyes before heading over to my car and climbing in the driver's seat. I wave goodbye to Devin as I pull off, listening to the static of the car rather than playing any music.

        I knew that Devin meant well and I knew that he understood my pain as best as any one of my friends could. But how can you explain to someone something they've never had to experience? I can try my best to vocalize it, sure, but he will never understand how it felt to love and lose Sebastian. I don't think anyone ever will.

        A year. Nearly twelve months since he'd died. I swallow back bile.

        My body knows where I'm driving to before my brain does and by the time it catches up, I'm already there. I stare up at Sebastian's house, the darkness of the place, and the "for sale" sign on the grass. Rachel and Victor had been long gone. The last I heard, they were in Peru. I tried to keep up with them but all I could see were Rachel's sad eyes looking over at me at the funeral...

        I click open my car door and brush my hands on my jeans, suddenly nervous. The house had some sort of ominous chill to it like it hadn't moved on from Sebastian's death quite yet either. "It's just a house," I whisper to myself.

        Calling up courage, I storm up the driveway and push the door open, letting myself in.

        It was almost unrecognizable. The living room, the kitchen, all of it. Empty. Kissing Sebastian against the kitchen door was only a memory. Falling asleep together on the couch was just in my imagination. We didn't belong here anymore.

        I'm surprised that my feet can still carry me through the house. His bedroom. How many nights had we spent in that room? Talking, holding on to one another, touching the deepest parts of one another's being. Now it was empty. Everything was gone.

        It's time to go, my mind whispers to me. As tears pool in my eyes, I nod. It was a mistake coming here. It was masochistic.

        My hand is just turning the doorknob when I hear it.

        It was quiet; I would've missed it if the house hadn't been completely silent. But it was there. The sound of piano keys being played, dreamy chords echoing across the house.

        I'm running then, up the stairs and down the hall until I find myself standing outside of Sebastian's old music room, the secret talent he rarely let me in on. I could remember long nights we spent together, him singing to me as I laid across his lap, nothing but a guitar between us. The memory hits me square in the chest as I bring my hand to the doorknob.

        I push the door open and the darkness of the room has me blinking a few times. When my eyes finally adjust, my body freezes completely.

        His fingers dance along with the keys beautifully, in a way that had always amazed me from the first time I'd seen it and wondered how someone's hands could move so quickly. He reaches the end of his song and lets his fingers hover over the keys for just a moment. Then, he cranes his neck and turns to me, his blue eyes brighter than ever.

        "Brayls. I've been waiting for you," Sebastian says, smiling widely.

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things are about to get WEIRD folks.
hope you enjoy ;)