View high resolution
Logan tackled Tim. They fumbled for the ball but it bounced free from their grip just as Perry caught up with them, so he scooped the ball up and took off again. He heard them take chase behind him and he was determined to make a touchdown. His lungs burned. Perry kept in good shape even though he hadn’t played any other sports since the football season had ended, but it had been a long time since he’d run in the cool, wet air of a September evening.
Tim and Logan caught up with him at the fifty-yard line, Logan’s arm wrapping around his waist and pulling them both crashing to the ground yet again. This time they had the additional weight of Tim coming down with them. Their bodies twisted into a playful wrestling match. Perry squirmed between the indistinguishable limbs that, when all was said and accounted for, made up his favorite people in the world.
Favorite people in the world. Think about that. Even here, tangled in their limbs, Perry could only think about them slipping away.
And then Logan’s face hovered over his again, his face cut wide with a toothy smile, his breathe smelling of cheap beer and cheaper wine.
“Hail Mary,” Perry said, and then he kissed Logan.
