“You’re duct-taping a hot water bottle to a mouse pad, aren’t you?”
“It works great. I’m telling you. After a game, when you’re tired as hell, but you gotta get that Call of Duty in.”
It was strange to all of a sudden be fine with being out in front of Colton. Justin was used to hiding his and Wes’s relationship, to sliding away, to sneaking around. He wasn’t used to Wes’s hand gliding up and down his back as he lay against Wes’s side and the two ball players went back and forth, laughing like they hadn’t broken each other’s hearts three days ago. Poking fun at Colton’s major turned into talking about the team and then the conference standings going into their bye week.
Nothing was the same, but everything that mattered to him was the same. Him and Wes. Their love. Their foundation.
Wes and Colton were rebuilding their foundation, too. Justin could still sense the strain, feel the tendrils of hurt curling off them both. See the way their eyes lingered when they thought the other wasn’t looking. But every hour strengthened them. Every shared memory, every quiet laugh. Colton was as much a part of Wes as Justin was. Wes couldn’t excise his best friend and the game they shared, just like he couldn’t excise Justin from his life after Paris. Wherever their future lay, Colton would be a part of it. Maybe football would be a part of that future, too.
Justin was okay with that. More than okay, in fact. If Wes was happy, if Wes could have everything he dreamed, all the different people and moments that made him smile, that was a good life. The best life.
After lunch, the nurse told Wes he needed to get up and move, to get out of bed and walk up and down the hallway at least once. Colton reacted like he was born for that very moment. He cracked his knuckles and grinned. “Are you ready to recover, bro? Cause I am so ready to work you.”
Colton and Wes limped up and down the hospital’s long hallways for an hour. Wes started off leaning most of his weight on Colton, but by the end of the first lap, he was standing on his own two feet, and he stayed that way for a full up-down of the hallway before he faltered and had to lean against Colton again.
Justin watched from Wes’s door, cheering every success.
When Colton brought Wes back, he was sweaty and shaking, and he needed both of their help to get back in bed, but he was smiling as wide as he could. Happiness shone through the bruises and the scabs. His ribs were sore, he said, and he was wiped out from the exertion, but he was happy. He passed out for four hours, leaving Justin and Colton alone with each other.
For the first time, they spoke one-on-one. Colton asked about the two of them. How they met, and where. What had happened over the summer and why they split up. Why Wes looked like someone had taken an ice cream scoop to his heart. Why they came back together, and how.
And what did Justin want from Wes? What did he imagine for their future together?
Justin asked questions in return, about Colton and Wes and how they became best friends. What Wes was like his freshman year. What it was like to play football, to be on the field in the middle of the play, a hundred things happening in a split second. Needing to make a snap decision that could make or break the game.
Colton said it was easy when he and Wes were together. Together, they could do anything, and they were going to prove it. They were going to show the world what they and the rest of the team could really do.
Eventually, the heart-to-heart descended into playing cards, and they ran through three rounds of poker before Justin pulled out his laptop and they turned on Netflix. When Wes opened his eyes, Colton and Justin were slumped side by side on the couch with Justin’s laptop balanced between their knees, giggling along with the stand-up comedian they were watching.
Colton took Wes for another hallway walk after dinner, urging Wes to keep going, keep pushing. The nurse finally threw him out just before ten p.m., but he was back the next morning, bagels, coffee, and Muscle Milk in hand. He got Wes out of