Page 25 of Every Broken Thing

“Huh, never seen it.”

“No way?” He nodded, and I straightened my spine, leaning forward with my arms on my knees. “How can you… I mean, everybody with a functioning dick has seenGladiator!”

Ben shushed me, craning his neck as he searched the cars on either side of us for offended patrons, and I cackled at his embarrassed flush. Right, we were in a family establishment. I shouldn’t be yelling about dicks.

“Well, I haven’t seen it, and my dick works,” he said with a blush.

Instead of ruminating on that revelation, I chucked my unopened ketchup packet at his head and said. “Gross.”

“Okay, okay. Real answer now.”

“Coraline,“ I said promptly.

Ben winced.

“You haven’t seen that one either?” I tutted. “That’s a real shame, Adams.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Brigs.”

“That’s okay. We’ll watch both sometime. Now you. Favorite movie, tough guy answer and honest answer.”

“I don’t have a tough guy answer. My favorite movie’sUp.”

This boy could not be real.

“The Pixar movie?”

Without a shred of embarrassment, he nodded. “Yes. I love Pixar movies, butUpis my favorite.”

“That’s… honestly adorable. I can’t even make fun of it.”

He smiled and turned his attention back to his shake. “I likeShawshank Redemption. Does that count as a tough guy answer?”

I laughed at the sky. “Sure, Ben.”

As the evening wore on, we talked about everything and nothing for over an hour, the topics flowing smoothly from one to another. Our conversation remained surface level, our likes and dislikes, hobbies and interests. He talked about California, and I told him about my dad and Will. Neither of us mentioned our mothers, and we didn’t ask, either. Maybe we shared the same ghosts, and he could see it in my eyes, the same haunted shadows darkening his.

He liked computers and coding, and he was wicked smart. It made me jealous, the way he talked about MIT and his plans for the future. He knew exactly what he wanted, setting precise goals, and my own insecurities bubbled to the surface. I felt even less put together when I compared his plans to my own, or lack thereof.

I would enter college undecided. I didn’t have passions or overly interesting hobbies. I dabbled here and there with what sparked my attention before I moved on to something new. Decently talented in varying avenues, I didn’t excel anywherespecific. I was lost, had been for years, drifting through the empty ocean of life at the mercy of the current.

I envied Ben’s surety. He was a compass, pointing the way home while I attempted to map out the ever-changing stars to get my bearings. We couldn’t be more different.

“Well, what do you enjoy doing?” he asked when I more or less voiced my doubts about college, and I hesitated. It was a good question.

“I don’t know.” My answer was far from satisfying.

He stretched his legs across the width of the cab, his shoe grazing my thigh as he pursed his lips. “I don’t think that’s true. Everyone knows what they like.”

Shrugging, I scratched lines into the now-empty Styrofoam cup and avoided his probing curiosity. “Yeah, maybe, but I guess I’m not everyone. I don’t really like anything.”

“Nothing?”

“I like playingSplatoon.”

“That’s a good game. But that’s not what I mean.”

“I guess.” I paused, not wanting to voice the confession edging up my throat. Ben smiled in encouragement, and for a moment, I trusted him not to mock me. “I guess I like to paint sometimes.”

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