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Xed says nothing as we walk through the front door, kicking off his boots in the living room like always. He disappears down the hall, and I hear the fridge door open before he calls out, “Want a soda?”

“No, but I want a sip of yours.”

Untying my sneakers, I line them neatly against the wall, fixing Xed’s boots next to them. My gaze drifts to the family photo hanging above the couch. Mom, Dad, Jenna, and I are all grinning in bright colors while Xed scowls in black, standing right next to me.

I fucking love that picture. We had it done last summer, and I keep meaning to get one printed for my wallet.

Xed reappears, soda in hand, and scoffs as he follows me downstairs to my room. “You say you just want a sip, but then you guzzle the whole thing.”

“I’m a thirsty boy. Sue me.”

Reaching up, I tug the string hanging from the ceiling, and the bare bulb in my basement room flickers on. I drop my backpack onto the unmade bed and pull out the sign I stole earlier. The walls are lined with others, nailed to exposed beams since the basement isn’t finished.

Mom and Dad bought the house when they had Jenna, but with only two bedrooms, this space became mine when I was old enough. Well, mine and Xed’s. I don’t mind the concrete floors or cobwebs—it’s ours.

“This was in the trash at my aunt’s,” Xed mutters, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He shoves it into my hands without looking at me.

I smooth it out on my desk, my eyes immediately locking on the official seal at the top, followed by his name.

Alexander Velasco,

On behalf of the entire University of Utah community, we are pleased to offer you…

The first few words make my heart leap, and before I know it, I’m spinning around and lifting Xed into the air with a shout.

“See? I told you! Fuck yeah, Xed! We’re going to college together!”

“Put me down,” he grumbles, but there’s no hiding the way his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“What the hell?” I set him back on the floor, staring at him like he just said the dumbest shit imaginable—because he did. “Xed, this is huge. You just got accepted for a grant!”

Both he and our friend Salem have been taking college classes concurrently since last year, they’re both on track to graduate high school with their Associate’s Degrees. How is he not excited for this?

He shrugs, scratching at his arm under his sleeve. “Pearl didn’t seem to think so. She’s the one who threw it in the garbage. I’m sure she wishes she’d done the same to me.”

The words punch me in the gut, leaving me breathless.

Before he can retreat to bed, I grab his arm and drag him into the half-finished bathroom.

“What the hell, Matty?” he growls, spilling some of his soda on the floor as I push him onto the closed toilet lid.

Snatching the can from his hands, I take a long swig before pointing at him. “Show it to me.”

His expression shifts, features going blank as he drops his gaze, dark strands falling to hide one eye. Without a word, he rolls up his shirt sleeve, exposing a tiny, scarred wrist before offering it to me. My stomach churns as my eyes settle on the fresh burn—a circle of angry, raw flesh.

There are others, too, dotting his inner arm up to the crook of his elbow, each in various stages of healing. I know his other arm looks the same.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen his scars. I still remember the day in middle school when I saw them for the first time—the helplessness, the anguish. How he begged me not to tell my mom because he didn’t want to disappoint her.

I’ve learned to keep my visceral reactions buried, but even now, years later, those jagged marks still take the air out of my lungs. The more time he spends with his aunt, the worse it gets.

Gently, I take his hand, cradling it against my chest as I rest my forehead against his hair. It smells awful, like his aunt’s house, but I don’t care.

“I hate when you do this,” I whisper. “You know nothing she says is true. Don’t let her get to you.”

Xed makes a small noise, his palm flattening against my chest, over my racing heart. “Some of it is. My own mom fucked off back to the Philippines after she had me, and who even knows where my sperm donor is. I’m not… keepable.”

“Yes, you are.” I lean back slightly, frowning into his gold-flecked eyes. “You’re very keepable. Why do you think I came looking for you tonight?”