Chapter 32. Sage
“What the fuck are you doing here?” is how I am greeted by Micah in the hallway outside of Silas’s room the following morning—no matter that I have not seen him in nearly five months.
“Micah,” I say, scooping him into a teary hug.
He mutters a “Higreattomeetya” over my shoulder to Fisher before he grips me by my shoulders and gives me a small shake. “Why are you here?” he says.
“Um,” I reply with blatant annoyance, breaking his hold. “Our brother lit himself on fire?”
“I fell off a mountain!” comes Silas’s hoarse shout. “Don’t tarnish my reputation!”
“You should not be shouting!” I yell his way.
“You are supposed to be at the race,” Micah says. “You don’t need to be here. You gotta go.”
“Micah, no.”
“YES!” Micah, Silas, and a newly approaching Ellis all say.
“We already missed the buy-ins,” I say, then risk a quick look at the clock. My hopeful-rising lungs rapidly deflate. “There’s no chance we’d make it in time now. There’s—there’s no point.”
“Sage,” Fisher says, his warm hand circling my arm. “Let’s go. You deserve to do that race. We fucking earned it.”
My eyes fill and start to spill over. “We can’t win. There’s no way for us to win,” I say. There’s no use denying it.
“We do it anyway,” he says firmly. “It’s all worth it anyway.” And I know he’s talking about us, too.