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“Well, that’s cryptic as fuck. I just told you guys about one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make, and you tell us in due time? I call bullshit.” Liam slaps a hand on the table, laughing.

“Fellas, there are a lot of wheels in motion, and I can’t wait to tell you about all of them. But for now, let’s stay focused on winning the whole fucking thing.” Archie reaches into the box and grabs two more pieces of pizza.

We shoot the shit for a little longer. Then Liam gets up to take a call, and Archie goes to his room. Casey and I are still at the table. He’s typing something on his phone, and I’m watching him as I spin my water bottle around in circles on the table. He’s either texting Noelle or Charlie. My bet is on Noelle, but then he looks up.

“You look like shit, you know?” He points at my face and the stubble that’s gone too long without shaving.

I glance down at the table and rub my jaw. “I’m going for the mountain-man look.”

“Really? Because I thought it was a hermit you were aiming for. Aside from practice, you’ve barely left your room.”

“I have to keep my GPA up in order to keep my scholarship. You know that.”

“Doesn’t have anything to do with avoiding life,” he says, and I look up at him. Casey tilts his head and doesn’t flinch when he says, “Your mom is evil.”

As much as I know it’s true, I flinch at his words because I hate hearing about her just as much as I hate talking about her.

He must sense my unease because he pauses, as if choosing his words carefully. “Listen, Beck, we’re not the kind of friends that share every detail of our lives. Mostly because you like to keep things to yourself and I respect that. That doesn’t mean that I won’t be here to listen if you ever want to talk.”

“I don’t,” I say quickly because I’m already fidgeting in my seat at the notion that Casey is gonna want to have some sort of heart-to-heart moment where we dissect my past.

He laughs lightly. “I figured.” His tone turns serious. “It also doesn’t mean I haven’t been listening all these years to things you don’t say.”

I furrow my brow in confusion.

He continues, “Yeah, you say a lot without even speaking. You said,I love my little sister, Brooke, every time you babysat her when your dad had to work late and never complained about it, even when everyone else was out at the movies or at a party or riding our bikes around town. You said,I’m a good son, when you asked my mom to teach you how to cook when we were only ten because you wanted to do something nice for your dad when he came home from a long day at work. You said,I’m a fucking awesome friend, when you didn’t go on the eighth-grade class trip to Six Flags because I broke my leg and couldn’t go and knew I was upset about it. You say,I’m a great fucking person, when you live every day as Beckham Linson—son, brother, friend, baller, and one of the best fuckers I’ve ever met—despite having a shit childhood. You don’t have to talk about shit, but there’s no one in this world who thinks about other people the way you do, man. Sure, you’re anal as shit with your things, and you’re a neat freak like I wouldn’t believe. And only a good guy would find goddamn peonies in the winter to give to a girl. That’s you, Beck. So, we don’t have to talk about your past. That’s cool. But don’t you dare lock yourself away and start looking like some kind of mountain man because of it. It sucks, but it’s who you are. My best friend. Who needs a shave.”

Casey leans back in his chair, and we sit here for a while. It’s a lot to process, his words. So, we just stare at the oak table for a bit with a weird kind of silence in the room.

I let out a deep sigh. “You been working on that speech for a while?” I ask.

“No. It was impromptu. How’d I do?”

“It was no Oscar-worthy monologue, but I think it could find its place in a Matt Damon, Ben Affleck screenplay.”

“Fuck off.”

“I love you, too, brother.” I lift my water bottle to my mouth and take a sip.

Casey laughs and grabs his phone.

“Hey, Charlie forgot her favorite pink sweatshirt. She says it’s in the closet next to your hoodies. Do you want to take it over to her?” He smirks. “You’d really be helping me out if you did. I have other shit to do.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” I prod.

“If you must know, it’s time for my daily jerk. Plus, Noelle just sent me a snap of her at that bar, The Font, in her overalls, and she just took a blow-job shot. Dude, there’s a little bit of whipped cream on her upper lip. Hard as steel right now, and I need to go take care of it.” He adjusts his junk and stands.

“Bro, I think you’ve been around Pitz and Archie too long. You’re starting to sound just like them.”

“Fuck you, Beck!” he says with a laugh.

As he walks away, Archie comes back into the room and heads for the door. “Later, boys.”

“Where you going?”

“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” And then right before the door closes all the way, I think I hear him say, “Going to see my girl.”

But that can’t be right.