Page 87 of Last Boy

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a tiny piece of paper and wonder how in the fuck she got it into my pocket without me noticing. Or without me getting the wrong idea and getting hard.

“Yo, Huff.” I nod toward him before waving him over.

Slowly, he stands and squeezes himself past Watson and Ryann. “Yeah?”

Holding the paper out, I scowl. “This is from Poppy. If it’s a love letter, you’d better start running right now because I’ll beat you senseless and shove that note straight up your ass.”

He gives me his usual charming Cade Huff grin. The season truly wasn’t the same without this fucking guy.

“Bro, I’m fresh out of rehab. I’ve been talking about my feelings and crying into my pillow for the last three months. I’m not equipped to fight tonight,” he answers, putting his mouth in a flat line before holding his hand out and snatching the letter from me. “Besides, James, I’m a dad now. Poppy knows any crush she could have possibly had on me now means nothing.” He shrugs, I glare harder, and he laughs, swatting my stomach. “Relax. I’m joking. I’m joking.”

As he heads back to his seat with the note firmly in his hand, I try not to stare to gauge his reaction, but, holy fuck, it’s hard.

Poppy

I shake my arms, letting all the tension in my body release from my hands. Or at least, that’s the goal. I’m not sure it works.

The performance I’m about to give means more to me than any other dance I’ve ever done because I’m dedicating my solo to a dear friend—a person I found an unlikely connection with during the worst day of my life.

Cade Huff.

A man who, months ago, was at my brother’s, buying drugs while lying to everyone in his life and hiding that he had a problem. A man who could have continued to go down the same path Van did, but got help instead. And now, fresh out of rehab and expecting his first child, he deserves this.

When I heard the song I chose, I knew it was made for people like me, Cade, Van, and Walker—all of us who just feel like we don’t belong here, like we’re not good enough, like our lives are a circus and we’re the opening acts.

And what I’ve figured out is, that’s okay. Because all these experiences, heartaches, and struggles make us stronger; it makes us damn near bulletproof.

When I took that scrap of paper and grabbed a pen, I wanted to keep it simple while also letting Cade know that he had made an impact on my life just by being himself. And by showing me that even the most lost souls can be found.

I close my eyes, trying to imagine Cade right now while he reads the words. I hope it doesn’t trigger him in any way or make him feel uncomfortable. But it’s just something I needed to say.

Cade,

I know you’re not the most serious guy I know. And you know damn well that I’m not one to get all touchy-feely and shit. But, Huff, I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, I’m so proud of you for getting help before you put your parents through what Jake and I went through with losing Van.

This song and this dance are for you. Because, Cade, sometimes…being human is hard. And sometimes, it feels like it’d be easier to give up. But just know that your baby will be so happy that his dad chose not to do that.

Love,

Princess Poppy

The tears fell from my eyes as I wrote the letter to Cade. When I found out he was going to be a dad, I was a bit worried because that’s a lot of pressure, especially for someone fresh from rehab and trying to stay sober. But I know in my heart he will be the best dad.

When the dancer before me ends her performance and the curtain closes, I make my way to the center of the stage. Moments later, Shinedown’s “A Symptom of Being Human” begins to play, and the curtain opens.

Every lyric in this song hits me so deep in my core that it physically hurts. But at the same time, it’s almost as though I can feel the pain melting away, lifting from my body and floating into the air in dark, thick clouds. I feel lighter than I ever have, my eyes filling with tears as I do what I was born to do. Dance. Let the music take me where it wants to.

I don’t always feel like I belong in a room. Or that I’m wanted in a place. And I’ve been burned, and I’ve burned bridges—lots of them. I’ve been hurt, and I’ve hurt others. I’ve stared at myself in a mirror and cursed my own existence. I’ve looked at someone else and wished that we could trade places. Even if that wouldn’t be fair to them. And I’ve taken out the pity card more times than I can count and asked myself, Why me?

But the truth is, if it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. Maybe someone who would have given up long ago. So, I’ve kept going. And fought back. And as corny as it is…I think the little girl who was curled up, scared, and crying when I was younger would be proud of the woman I am right now.

I didn’t need a man to define me or make me who I am now. But Walker James isn’t just a man. He’s a best friend. A protective shield. An ally. A constant reminder that I’m not in this life alone.

And I can say that without him, I’m not so sure I would have made it out of my childhood alive. And if I had, I sure as hell would have been a lot more jaded than I am.

So, I let myself let go. I let go of everything holding me back, and I vow that from here on out, I won’t focus on the bad parts of me or my life. Even on the days when the darkness creeps back in—because it will. It never goes away completely. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s there to remind me that we don’t have to be just our sad stories. We can be both.

We can be whatever we want.

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