“They’re gonna have to see it eventually,” I say. “This play is just the beginning for you. You’re gonna keep going to auditions, and getting roles, and one day they’re gonna realize you don’t belong anywhere else.”

“I hope they do,” he says. He holds my hand a little tighter, and I realize something. For the first time ever, he didn’t try to make a joke, didn’t try to hide behind his smile. As I look into his eyes, he lets me see everything—how happy he is now that he’s been spending time on a stage, how terrified he feels of not being able to go after what he’s dreamt of his entire life… and how relieved he is to be able to let down his walls and show me the things he’d also tried to hide. “But that doesn’t matter right now. We gotta figure out how to help your sister. I mean, there has to be a way to sit your parents down and make them see that you’re running out of options here. They have to understand.”

“Yeah,” I say. Maybe it’s just hearing Adam say these things out loud, but without warning, the reality of what’s happening with my family hits me like a train at full speed. One moment I’m sitting on the blanket next to him, and the next, everything in front of my eyes starts becoming so bright that I can’t make out any shapes.

“Matt,” Adam says, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.

Feeling like I’m losing control over my own body, I struggle to get on my feet. My chest is heaving, and I’m starting to have trouble breathing. Suddenly, I feel his hand on my back, which is the only thing that tells me I’m still here, that I’m still at the park, that he’s still right next to me.

“Matt, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here for you.”

Big, hot tears come rolling down my face. I try to turn away from Adam, not wanting him to see me like this, but then his hands find mine, and he pulls me toward him.

While he hugs me, trying his best to hold all my broken pieces in his arms, I realize I love him. I always have—as a friend, of course—but now I feel something completely different for him. I just don’t have a way to show it to him right now. I have no way to say the words out loud, but I hope he can somehow feel it. I hope he knows how much it means to me that he’s here with me, that he’s willing to fight for me and my sister, that he’s supporting my weight even while I feel as though the ground is crumbling beneath my feet.