next ten years, Sul. Imagine you didn’t medal. Imagine you’re still fighting for that dream at thirty, and your body isn’t the same as it was. What then?”
I’d take it.
For gold, I would take anything.
“You’re not thirty, Beckett.”
“I’ve been dancing since I was four, Sul. My body is fucked.”
Tears pool in my eyes. “You’re at the top of your career. You already have gold.”
He takes a small sip of his drink and swallows hard. “I guess that’s the difference between you and me. You can get a medal and call it a day.” He shakes his head. “I can’t live without ballet.”
Ballet for him isn’t just dancing. It’s the art. The whole performance. The craft. The audience. The passion. The soul. I don’t try to convince him that he can live without it. But there’s an expiration date—and I don’t want the day he ends ballet to be the end of him, too.
“Are you still using?” I ask.
He shakes his head and sets his Fizz Life on the desk. “No. I made a promise that I wouldn’t.” His eyes hit mine. “I’m not going to bullshit you, it’s hard.”
“I know. I get it now.”
That almost breaks him. Tears filling his eyes. “Do you?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’d have taken it, if I was still competing, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fucked up. And I would want you to tell me to fucking stop.”
He rubs at his eyes. “I’m glad you were mad at me.” He takes a step forward. “I’m so, so sorry, Sulli, for what I said to you.”
I inhale sharply. I stopped waiting for this apology a long time ago, and so I didn’t think I’d hear those words now.
He continues, “I don’t think you’re pointlessly destroying your body. I think you were just experiencing shit at twenty-one, like a twenty-one-year-old should.”
I rub at my eyes. “So why’d you say it then?’
“Because I thought you’d understand why I was using. Maybe I even convinced myself you’d agree with me. It’s why I didn’t tell you earlier. I thought…if you were on my side, you’d get heat from my brother, my sister, Maximoff. I didn’t want it to be us vs them. I didn’t want to put you in that position. When I realized you were already on their side, I was angry. So I lashed out.”
Silent tears slip down my cheeks. All this time…Beckett thought I’d betrayed our friendship first. That I chose them over him.
“I’m sorry,” I say, rising from the bed.
“No, you were on the right side, Sul.” He bridges the distance and we hug. “I need to stop using. I’ve stopped.”
“Good.” I part from him as guitar chords sound from another room. Tom must be practicing. I dig in my pocket and dangle out the turquoise, red, and blue friendship bracelet. “For you. I made it in Yellowstone. I thought about giving it to you if this day ever came. And I honestly thought it might take years, but I’m happy to say, it didn’t.”
He holds out his wrist, his lips rising. “Me too. And I thought about giving you my friendship fries if this day ever came, but Eliot just ate the last bag I’d been saving.”
Beckett used to always share his fries with me. It’s always been his favorite mid-day snack. And so we used to call them Friendship Fries.
I smile big and tie the threads of the bracelet around his wrist. “I’ll just take some imaginary friendship fries.”
Once I finish the knot, Beckett asks, “What do you need to tell me?” He smiles more. “I want to hear it all. I feel like I’ve missed decades of your life.”
It kinda fucking feels like that for me too. I don’t know how to do this, so we both sit cross-legged on his bed, and I just start from the beginning. The funhouse where I told Banks and Akara that it’d be cool if they took my virginity. The motel where Banks kissed me. Then the morning run where Akara kissed me too.
I talk about how we’ve been dating. Bachelorette style. How they make me feel. Our easy banter, even when we’re all together. How scared I was to lose them in the cougar attack.
How they’re so different, but I like that they’re different and not the same. And every day with them just makes inexplicable sense.
I leave out the other sexual moments. Just for now.
He listens.
He’s always been really good at listening.
We move down to the floor and bring in snacks as I