Marcus sat against the headboard, his right hand wrapped in plaster and pins. The painkillers slurred his words as he tried to dictate his college essay. "Say I learned grit from football," he mumbled, then drifted off mid-sentence. Theo sat at the laptop, the cursor blinking. The deadline was midnight. His brother couldn't type a single word, so Theo would have to do it for him.

Theo stopped typing. The football stuff was a lie. Marcus hated football. He'd only joined because their dad pushed him into it. Theo's hands hovered over the keys for a second. Then he started writing what was actually true about his brother instead.