---
Friday felt too bright for a boy who felt so hollow.
Scott's eyes were puffy from another night of zero sleep. He stood at his mirror that morning and barely recognized the kid blinking back at him.
The same kid who'd stood in the rain for Brian.
The same kid who'd said I love you and meant it.
Now he felt like every bit of that kid had been scraped out and left raw.
---
The hallways smelled like cheap deodorant and stale coffee. They sounded like whispers with his name in them — though he couldn't catch the words exactly.
Did you hear—?
They broke up—
No way, he was with Brian?
But Brian said—
He slammed his locker shut, hoping the echo would drown them out. But it didn't.
---
CJ found him first. It was always CJ — tall, broad-shouldered, not afraid to body-check anyone who looked at Scott too long.
"You eaten?" CJ asked, like it was normal. Like the world hadn't cracked open.
Scott snorted. "Not hungry."
Zeke leaned in, trying to catch Scott's eyes. "Don't do that thing where you act like it doesn't hurt."
Scott's jaw flexed. "What do you want me to say? It does. It fucking kills."
---
Dylan just wrapped an arm around his shoulder — solid and warm and so there.
"You don't have to say anything," he said softly. "You just gotta let us sit in it with you."
Scott didn't mean to — but the tears came. He blinked them back, fast and angry. "I feel so stupid. Like I'm the only idiot in this whole damn school who didn't see it coming."
CJ swore under his breath. "You're not stupid. You're brave. You loved him. He's the idiot for not holding onto you."
---
They didn't say you deserve better because they all knew Scott already knew that.
It wasn't about knowing it — it was about believing it.
And right now, he couldn't.
---
He made it through classes by sheer muscle memory.
Didn't hear half the lessons. Didn't care.
At lunch, they sat with him — CJ, Zeke, Dylan — shoulders pressed close like they could keep him from crumbling.
Nobody said Brian's name. Nobody said rumor. Nobody said secret.
Zeke just nudged a half-eaten cookie toward him. "Eat, man. Sugar helps."
Scott cracked the smallest smile. "Science?"
"Bro science," Dylan said with a grin.
---
After the final bell, they wouldn't let him go home alone.
They made him come to CJ's basement — the one with the old plaid couch and the giant TV.
They ordered way too much pizza, half of it pepperoni just for Scott, even though he barely ate more than a slice.
They watched a dumb horror movie. CJ fell asleep and started snoring like a chainsaw.
Zeke pretended to be terrified every time a ghost popped up, just to make Scott laugh.
He did laugh — once, twice — then it broke into a sob that made Dylan pull him in tighter.
---
Near midnight, the others crashed on sleeping bags on the floor. Scott stayed awake on the couch, blanket pulled to his chin, staring at the cracks in the basement ceiling.
His phone buzzed once: Brian. I'm sorry. I miss you.
The words made his chest ache so hard he felt sick.
He wanted to reply. God, he wanted to.
But he didn't.
---
He powered the phone off and hid it under the couch cushion.
CJ stirred on the floor, mumbling, "You good, man?"
Scott's voice shook. "Yeah."
He wasn't. Not yet.
But he had his boys.
He had himself.
And that had to be enough for now.
---
In the dark, Scott whispered to himself:
One piece at a time. One piece at a time. One day, I'll feel whole again.
---