Page 48 of The Brotherly Shove

"You can't break him, Lennon. Not anymore than he already is, anyway," Maryann says, reading my mind with her mom superpowers. Still, I can't force myself to move any closer.

“Mare, Maryann, Mrs. Lawson—” I stutter, trying to figure out what to say. It's all too much. Her son has been lying to her about his personal life for weeks, and it was my fault. My idea. And I'm the one that spilled the beans in the most public manner a person can think of, completely blindsiding her and everyone else in America because I couldn't keep my goddamn lips to myself.

"Lennon, for the love of god, sit down, will ya?" Maryann finally snaps, violently nodding her head towards the chair on the other side of Breaker's bed. I feel my entire body flush red with fear, embarrassment, anticipation. I slowly make my way to the chair, and when I lower myself down, I finally let myself look at Breaker. Really, actually look at him.

He's pale. So pale, he's practically translucent. His chest is rising and falling with steady breaths, clearly being assisted by the oxygen cannula sitting in his nostrils and wrapping around his ears. His right arm is tucked into a sling, but I can still see the angry blue and purple bruises blooming over his skin. He looks so impossibly small, so vulnerable. I want nothing more than to do something. Anything. I reach a shaky hand out to touch his cheek, but the moment my fingertips brush his five o'clock shadow, I choke on a sob.

"Breaker, oh my god. Breaker, baby," I'm cut off by a shuddering cry. I shouldn't have let him back onto that field. I should have fought him harder. He was hurt, I knew he was hurt, and I let him out there anyway.

"He dislocated his shoulder, but no concussion. He was awake for a brief moment while he was wheeled back here, but he passed back out. The doctors say it's likely due to the pain. He'll be out for a bit. They gave him some heavy stuff and thensort of just…shoved it back into place. It was gnarly. Be glad you missed it."

Maryann's immovable straight face falters just a touch when recalling Breaker's medical care, and I absolutely lose it. The dam breaks, the floodgates open, and everything I've been trying and failing to hold back breaks free on a harsh cry.

"I failed you, baby," I whisper through the tears streaming down my face.

"You didn't fail him, sweetheart. You know my son as well as I do. Better, probably. I saw it, too. I saw him trying to hide the injury so he could get back out on that field. I'm almost positive your coach saw it too, but Breaker wasn't going to give up. He was going back out there and making that play whether any of us wanted him to or not. You couldn't have stopped him. Jesus himself could have come down on that field to try to stand in the way and Breaker would have told him to fuck off. Don't put this on yourself, Lennon. Breaker is his own, stubborn, pigheaded man, and when he wakes up he won't be blaming you. If I had to guess, the first thing he'll want to do when he opens his eyes is get another one of those sweet lookin' smooches you gave him down in the end zone."

She punctuates the last sentence with a sweetly menacing smirk, and if possible, my stomach drops even further.

“Maryann, I?—”

"Save it. I've known about yous guys the whole time. I talk to my son everyday, you know," she chuckles, her smile fading into something somber as she gazes down at Breaker.

"He told you?" I ask, a little shocked. I mean I don't care if he did, but he's the one that insisted we keep it from her as well in the first place.

"He didn't have to. It was obvious. One minute Breaker is pissin' and moanin' about Lennon, how Lennon broke his heart, how he hates himself for treating Lennon like shit. Then all ofthe sudden it's 'Oh, we made up. We're friends. We're good.' I didn't buy it for a second. Don't you look at me like that," she says, and I know in an instant that she's clocked the guilty-as-hell look on my face. "I'm not mad, Lennon. I'm just smarter than the two of yous give me credit for. Believe me, it was only a matter of time before you two got your heads out of your asses and realized you were both in love with each other. In fact, I need to get your mother on the horn. She said there was no way you'd go public during the season, and I said eventually all the love would overwhelm you and you wouldn't be able to help it. She owes me twenty bucks. Though your dad won the side bet thatyou'dbe the one to cave first, so I guess I'll be buying him a case of Yuengling when I'm back in Pennsylvania."

She gives me a wink, and I gape at her, trying to catch up. She knew. My parents knew. Did everyone know? Were we fooling ourselves this entire time? But wait, Coach didn't know, or at least he acted like he didn't when he was being a dickhole on the sideline.

"I guess we weren't as…discreet…as we thought we were," I cough. "Does, uh. Does everyone know?"

"Your parents know," Maryann says with a smile. "But no, not everyone. Before today, I'm fairly certain it was just us. Mother's intuition, and all that. It's going to be okay, Lennon. It's not a crime to be in love."

I close my eyes and nod, knowing that what she's saying is true.

"I didn't want to detract from his career, from his game. What he's done this season, it's been incredible. Unprecedented. He's…fuck. He's Superman. To me, anyway. We both hated lying, keeping secrets, but I thought it was for the best. I made him do this, and then I spilled the beans anyway. What does that say about me?"

"It says you're a man who will do anything to protect the person that you love, but more importantly, Lennon? It says you're a man who loves with his entire chest. You weren't thinking about the league or the consequences or anything when you kissed Breaker down on that field, were you?"

"No," I answer, my voice sounding soft and unsure, even to me.

"No. You were thinking about how in love you are with my son, weren't you?" She asks, and I bite my lip.

"I was. I was thinking about how I couldn't live without him. Couldn't stand to see him hurt. Just wanted to take his pain away."

Breaker stirs, and I go stiff.

"Now's your chance, Lennon," Maryann says, standing and patting Breaker's hand. "Stay here. Be here when he wakes up. Take his pain away."

I watch as she walks backwards to the door, wiping a wayward tear from her cheek as she retreats.

As soon as she's gone, I round the bed and squeeze myself in as best I can. One leg hangs off the side, my foot already tingling with pins and needles. I maneuver myself as carefully as possible, making sure not to jostle his slung shoulder as I gently pull Breaker onto my chest and close my eyes.

CHAPTER 29

BREAKER

Now

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