Last Call at the Cortex - chapter18

I stepped forward. I was trembling. Not from cold, but from fear.

I am Leo. I am the Planner. I am Logic. I am the architect who builds walls to keep the scary things out. I am the one who writes the excuse notes.

Stuck at a funeral.

In the hospital.

Just busy.

I wrote those notes to keep Adam safe. To keep him from facing the messiness of being human. I thought if I could just organize his life perfectly—if I could just arrange the coasters symmetrically—he would be happy.

But you can't blueprint happiness. And you can't logic your way out of despair.

I stood directly behind Adam. I was close enough to see the individual raindrops soaking into his jacket.

"Adam," I said. My voice was calm. Steady. "The data suggests that jumping is a permanent solution to a temporary set of variables."

Adam didn't move.

"But," I continued, my voice cracking, "the data is incomplete. I forgot to factor in the unknown variables. The future variables."

I reached out. My hand, glowing with white light, hovered over his shoulder.

"I can't fix this for you," I whispered. "I can't organize the pain away. I can't schedule a time for you to be okay. I was wrong to try."

I looked at Desi. She was crying, nodding at me. I looked at Greg. He gave me a slow, sad thumbs-up.

"We aren't separate," I realized. "We never were."

I took a deep breath.

"Come on, guys," I said. "Last call."

I stepped forward into Adam.

Desi stepped forward into Adam.

Greg stepped forward into Adam.

We didn't hit him. We didn't bump him. We became him.

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