Ryan doesn’t want to lie down in his
hospital bed just yet—he aches to talk to someone, to Dante, he
wants to call his boy and tell him how unfair this whole thing is,
he knows that his friend will understand. But it’s getting late and
Dante needs his sleep—he’s winning tomorrow and he’ll go on to
State and Ryan can’t believe he asked him to come along,
too. He knows his mother will balk about that as well, but he’ll
pick at the same wounds he gouged open tonight if he has to, he’s
going to Atlantic City with Dante. And sharing a room, and
sleeping next to him, and they won’t leave until they get a little
further along than sweet kisses in the bed, Ryan will see to
that.
He has no doubt that Dante’s
experienced—most anyone is more experienced than Ryan himself,
having never h
