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.

Theo wrote the truth and submitted it before he could second-guess himself. He didn't tell Marcus until breakfast. "I sent the real one," he admitted. Marcus put down his fork very slowly. "You did WHAT?"

Marcus didn't speak to Theo for a week. The submission couldn't be undone. When the acceptance finally came, Marcus showed up at Theo's door holding the letter. "I'm still mad," he said. "But thanks for knowing me better than I know myself."