Leo finally looked at him. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he nodded.
“You know how to fix this?” Leo asked. Young Hearts
“It didn’t crack,” Eli said.
“I don’t know,” Eli said. But he wasn’t thinking about the afterlife. He was thinking about the warmth bleeding from Leo’s arm into his own. He was thinking about the word forever and how it suddenly didn’t seem too long. Leo finally looked at him
That night, Eli lay awake. He turned the memory over like a smooth stone: Leo’s hand brushing his when they reached for the same slice of pizza. The way Leo had looked at him when Eli caught a firefly and let it go—soft, wondering, as if Eli had done something miraculous. The way Eli’s own heart hammered during those silences that weren’t empty but full of things unsaid. “It didn’t crack,” Eli said
Then Leo exhaled—a long, shaky breath, as if he’d been holding it since July.
Eli turned his head. Leo was crying, silent tears tracking down his cheeks. But he was smiling too—a small, terrified, hopeful smile.