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 about the night Marcus stopped hiding that he was failing two classes and asked their parents for help. It was scary and honest. When Marcus woke up and read it, his eyes went wide. "You can't send that. It makes me look weak."