What It Takes Read Free

of his damp shirt. Milo doesn’t move. One shocking welt runs from the top of Milo’s shoulder blade halfway down his upper back. Andrew doesn’t touch it, although he is tempted.
    “How much does it hurt?” he whispers.
    “Not that much anymore.” Milo shrugs his shirt back down and steps away. “It’ll be fine in a few days.”
    “Milo—”
    “No. Let’s go, I don’t wanna say any more.”
    Andrew wants to press for more—for more what, he has no idea. Something. Something to help, some way to convince Milo it would be okay to get help from a grown-up.
    “Fine,” Andrew finally says. Milo doesn’t move and it takes Andrew a second to realize it’s because he’s waiting for Andrew to lead them home.
    “My house?” he offers, setting off toward the east. He picks the only fix he can think of. “Ice cream?” It’s stupid, maybe, but he’s a kid. It’s pretty much all he has.
    “Yeah.” Milo smiles. “Totally.”
    ° ° °
    He tries. Andrew sits on it and sits on it, but he wants nothing more than to tell his mom, because this secret is way too big for him. When he has Milo over or when they are with friends or in the woods, it’s as if he can suddenly really  see  his friend. Milo gets nervous or upset a lot. All the times Andrew has had to talk him into things, he understands now, are because he’s afraid.
    After a sleepover, when he’s tired from staying up late with Milo and Teddy telling ghost stories and playing the newest Zeus and Co. video game, Andrew finally cracks. He’s been holding on to it  forever . It’s been two whole weeks; he’s too tired to ignore how exhausted Milo has seemed lately, and he just wants to help.
    “Mom,” he starts, sitting at the breakfast bar and rolling an apple back and forth from hand to hand, not looking at her. “I need to tell you something.”
    “Confessions?” She smiles. “Let me guess, you guys ate all the candy last night?”
    “No.” He looks up. Her blonde hair is extra light in the sun, and the knowing smile she gives him makes him feel safe. “I mean, yes, we ate the candy, but that’s not what I want to tell you.”
    She leans onto her elbows on the kitchen counter. “All right. What other trouble did you boys get into?”
    Andrew takes a deep breath and fiddles with the stem of his apple until it comes off. “Um, well. I—how do I help…?”
    “Help…?” She prompts when he doesn’t say anything. He swallows hard and tries not to think about how mad Milo is going to be.
    “Mom, I think Milo’s dad is um, well. Like, mean.”
    “Okay.” She comes around to sit next to him; her demeanor becomes more serious. She runs a hand through his hair. “Do you mean like he’s strict and yells?”
    Andrew shakes his head. “No like... hits him? Maybe?” For some reason Andrew thinks if he softens the truth Milo maybe won’t be that mad. His mom doesn’t say anything, just clears her throat and looks away.
    “Did he tell you that, honey?”
    Andrew nods, then rethinks it and shrugs. “Well, I saw something, once. Like on his back? But he made me promise not to tell. He said it’s only happened a few times.”
    “Okay. Okay.” She takes another breath, then pulls him into a hug. “You did the right thing, telling me.”
    “He said it will make his dad more mad if people know, and I don’t want to—”
    “I know, honey.” She turns and takes him into her arms. He lets her hug him for longer than usual, and when she runs a hand through his hair he doesn’t want to squirm away at all. And he’d never admit it, not when he’s almost eleven and too old for this, but he loves the way she smells and how soft she is and how it feels to be hugged like this. He’s not sure what she’s going to do, but it feels so much better not to be holding this inside and not knowing how to help his friend.
    °
    Whatever his mom does, Milo is right. It does make things worse. At least that’s the last thing Milo says to