We are the boys

Marcus Confronts Ty

Sunday night. 48 hours to launch.

I didn’t plan on it happening in the stairwell, but that’s where we always end up when there’s nowhere else to talk. The lights buzz and flicker like they’ve been waiting for this.

Ty’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He knew I’d come.

“You avoiding me?” I ask. Stupid opening.

“Depends,” Ty says. “Are you leaving tomorrow or staying for five minutes?”

I step closer. “You think I want to go without talking to you?”

“I think you wanted me to find out from Dev. Clean break.”

“It wasn’t like that.” My voice comes out rougher than I meant it to. “You think I’m happy about this? You think I sleep?”

“Then don’t go,” Ty says. Simple. Like it’s that easy.

I laugh, but it’s dry. “And do what? Another 10 years on the freight yard? Watch you take double shifts so the rent doesn’t eat us alive? I got a shot, Ty. One shot.”

“So that’s it?” His voice gets quiet, which is worse. “I’m just the thing you’re leaving behind?”

“No.” I grab his shoulder, and for a second he doesn’t pull away. “You’re the reason I took the interview. So we wouldn’t both be stuck. So maybe one of us could get us out.”

Ty looks at me for a long time. The anger’s still there, but under it is something else. Hurt.

“You could’ve said that,” he says. “Instead of letting Dev play messenger.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I should’ve.”

We don’t hug. We don’t say ‘we are the boys’ again. But when I leave, he doesn’t stop me.

It’s not fixed. But it’s not broken either. Not yet.