Page 117 of Cross the Line

“I can’t believe you guys made these,” Alec says, slipping both of them on his right wrist and thinking about that day he’d joked about making these all those weeks before. “You know I was teasing about these, right? You didn’t have to make them, though I’m kind of glad you did.”

“We had to do something to keep ourselves occupied yesterday,” Riley replies. “Andrew is a goddamn warden, and refused to let us come see you.”

“What Riley means is that he was pacing so much at our apartment, that he was going to wear a hole in the floor, so we all went to the craft store and got supplies.”

“Who is we?”

“Hunter and Logan, obviously. They’re coming by later. Andrew very strongly suggested we stagger who visited when so as not to overwhelm you. And by strongly suggested, I mean he and Charlie are both kind of scary when they want to be.” Antonio pulls a baggie out of the front of his hoodie pocket, dozens more friendship bracelets inside. “When I told the guys on the team what happened and what we were doing, they all came to our place and joined in.”

“The guys on the team made me friendship bracelets,” Alec mumbles, watching as Antonio pops open the baggie and sets it next to Alec’s hip. He pulls the first one out, fingering the bright rainbow beads and the word team. The next one is red, with King and a 7 on it. On it goes, all of them echoing Alec’s association to the team, in what is probably supposed to make him feel better but instead makes his hands sweat and his head throb while bile rises in his throat.

“Take them back,” Alec says, shoving the baggie towards Antonio.

His eyebrows knit together in obvious confusion, and something in Alec he’s been holding together breaks. He doesn’t want to lose his best friend, all his friends. Aside from Riley and Hunter and Logan, his friends are the team. Or other athletes on campus. He’s built his life around his identity as a soccer player, and it isn’t until this moment that it occurs to Alec if he quits the team, he could lose them all.

“What’s going on?” Antonio asks.

“Take the fucking bracelets,” Alec begs, embarrassed by the desperation in his tone.

Antonio does what he asks, holding them between his hands. His eyes never leave Alec’s face. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not playing again,” Alec grits out.

“Hey, you don’t know that. Your parents said after your cast comes off you’ll have a few months of PT, but me and the guys will come with you. We can train with you, get you back to normal, and then you can come back to the team.”

“I’m not coming back, Antonio.”

“You don’t know that. They said?—”

“I’m quitting,” Alec says in a rush, those two little words leaving him feeling like he ran a marathon.

“But you love soccer,” Antonio says, eyes wide. “We were gonna play in the MLS together. Playing professionally is what you’ve always wanted.”

Alec shakes his head.

“I thought you loved it.”

“I loved playing with you,” Alec tells him, because that’s the honest truth. “I love being part of a team and I love the game. I always will. But playing at that level was making me miserable. It was making me hate the game, and hate my body. The training and the stress and the pressure. I—I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to be drafted and have my entire future be like that. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

The silence stretches off for long seconds, broken by Antonion’s soft, “I’m going to miss you.”

Alec closes his eyes, swallowing down the urge to sob. His ribs wouldn’t be able to handle it, nor would his heart. “I understand.”

“Understand what?” Antonio presses.

“You’re mad at me and don’t want to be friends and?—”

“Dios mío, you are the most dramatic fucker I’ve ever met,” Antonio groans. “You are my family, Alec. You’re not getting rid of me, ever. Who would be my best man when I marry Elsa? Hell, I think my abuela loves you more than she loves me. You’re stuck with me. I won’t lie to you, it sucks you won’t be there, so yes I’m going to miss you on the field, but nothing is going to change our friendship. Besides, at least we can still graduate together and oh my god, why do you look like you’re going to throw up?”

“I hate my major and I think I want to switch, which means I won’t be able to graduate with you,” Alec says so quickly the words jumble together. Maybe all he needed to start spilling his guts to everyone was to get hit by a car and stuck in a bed.

“Got any other life-changing secrets you wanna share?” Antonio sighs, dropping into the chair by Alec’s bed and leaning against the railing. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you apologize one more time, I’ll kick you.”

“No, you won’t. You’re scared of Andrew.”

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