"Hey, bro," Shane says, walking into his little brother's room.

Nate looks up from his laptop and gives his brother an exhausted smile.

"Hi," he replies. "You know, you're the only one who gets to walk into my room without knocking who I don't yell at."

Shane smiles. "That's 'cause I'm your best friend."

Nate chuckles. "That you are," he agrees.

"So, whatcha doin'?" Shane wonders, flopping down onto Nate's bed.

Nate sighs. "An English paper," he answers. "It was due today, but my teacher gave me an extension, so now it's due tomorrow."

"Oh," Shane says. "How much do you have done?"

"Including my name and the date?" Nate asks. "Um…none."

"Dude." Shane sits up and looks at Nate. "How long have you had to do this?"

"Um," Nate starts, "two weeks?"

"Two weeks? Dude," Shane says again. "And you didn't do it, why?"

Nate makes a face at his brother. "What are you, my dad?" he asks, half-joking.

Shane rolls his eyes. "That should be who are you," he mumbles under his breath. To Nate, he says, "Why didn't you do it?"

Nate shrugs. "I don't know," he replies. "Because it was boring, and I just didn't feel like it, and I have senioritis, bad."

"You're a sophomore," Shane points out, scratching Nate's puppy's tummy.

Nate groans. "Don't remind me."

Shane chuckles. "Sorry," he apologizes. He is quiet for a little, watching Nate work. "Elvis is looking a little chubby," he says after a while. "Don't you ever take him on walks?"

Nate looks at his brother again. "I take him on two walks a day."

"Then why is he getting chubby?" Shane wonders, making a face as Elvis licked his hand.

"Because Mom feeds him three treats every morning and three treats every night," Nate explains.

Shane chuckles again. "Mom's always a sucker when it comes to puppies."

Nate chuckles too. "She is," he agrees. "But come on. If Elvis was sitting in front of you, begging for a treat, looking up at you with those big puppy eyes of his, you'd give in, too."

Shane laughs "That's true," he says. He gets off the bed and Elvis starts to whine. "Give your dog some love, bro. I think he's starting to feel neglected."

"No," Nate says," he's an attention whore. No matter how much attention you give him, he always wants more. But I mean, he is a puppy."

Shane nods. "True," he says again. "Dinner's gonna be done in a few minutes, are you coming down to eat?"

Nate shakes his head. "I have to finish this," he answers.

"Nate, I'm sure you can spare a half hour for dinner. Besides…you need to eat, man. Your diabetes, remember?"

Nate sighs. "I know," he says. "Look, I love that you care, Shane, but I can't even stop for a minute. I really need to work on this. Okay?"

Shane sighs that time. "Okay," he says uncertainly. "I'll have Mom save you some just in case you get hungry in the middle of the night. All right?"

Nate nods and smiles a little. "Thank you," he says sincerely.

"You're welcome," Shane replies.

He hesitates a moment before opening the door and leaving. Nate sighs again as he goes back to working on his paper. He glances at Elvis.

"I hate this," he says to his five-month old puppy. "I can't wait until I'm done high school all together."

Elvis barks in reply and Nate sighs once more.

"Here," Shane says, walking into Nate's room about an hour later, a plate piled high with waffles.

Nate looks up from his laptop again. "Waffles?" he wonders. "That's what Mom made for dinner?"

"No," Shane admits. "But I know how much you love my waffles, so I made some for you."

Nate's face breaks out into a smile. "You did?" he asks. "Wow, thanks, man. You really didn't have to."

Shane waves his hand in front of his face. "Don't mention it," he says, smiling too.

He walks over to Nate after putting the plate on his nightstand, taking the laptop from him.

"Hey—" Nate starts.

Shane shakes his head, cutting him off. "Eat," he demands, pointing to the plate.

"I guess you're not gonna leave my room until I do, huh?"

Shane shakes his head again. "Nope," he replies, sitting back down on Nate's bed.

Nate sighs again as he picks up the plate. He eats some and then closes his eyes, savoring the taste.

"Oh, my god," he says. "These are delicious."

"Thank you. Thank you very much." Shane says in a perfect Elvis Presley impersonation, standing up and bowing.

Nate laughs and rolls his eyes at his big brother. Shane is a dork, sure, but Nick loves him and looks up to him. And Shane, despite being a goofball, is always there to look out for Nate. You can't find two brothers closer than Nate and Shane.

"Hey," Nate speaks up a few minutes later, feeding some of his waffles to Elvis, "are you doing football this year?"

Shane shakes his head. "No," he answers.

Nate looks at Shane and frowns a little. "Why not? Football's your whole life. You've been the quarterback for the past three years."

"I know, but I've gotten four concussions in the last three years," Shane replies. "The doctor said that if I get one more concussion…I could die, Nate."

The food is halfway to Nate's mouth when it registers what Shane had just said. He drops the fork and stars at Shane, his eyes wide.

"What?" he asks, almost in a whisper.

Shane nodded. "The last time I was in the hospital," he explains, looking down at his hands, "the doctor told me that I could die if I hit my head again. And I don't want to put you, or Mom and Dad, or Jason, or Mitchie…I don't want to put you through that. I can't put you through that."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Nate wonders, his voice quiet.

Shane won't meet Nate's eyes. "It wasn't a big deal," he replies just as quietly. "It wasn't important."

Nate frowns at his brother. "Are you kidding me?" he asks. "The doctor told you that if you hit your head again, you might die, and it 'wasn't a big deal'? Are you serious?!"

Shane plays with the ring on his finger, still not looking at Nate.

"Please don't be mad," he says softly. Slowly he raises his head to meet Nate's eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but how was I even supposed to begin that conversation? I couldn't just bring it up over dinner, could I? 'Oh, Nate, if I hit my head again, I could die, but can you pass the peas?'"

Nate swallows hard. "Did you tell Mom and Dad about this? Or even Jason?"

Shane shakes his head. "No. I haven't told anyone. Well, except for you, right now."

Nate sets his plate of waffles, only half eaten, onto his desk. He looks at Shane for a minute before turning away from him. His shoulders start to shake and Shane knows his little brother had started to cry.

"Nate," Shane starts, putting a hand gently on Nate's back.

Nate turns back to him, throwing his arms around Shane, holding him tight.

"You can't die," he whispers into Shane's neck. "Okay? You're my best friend. You just can't die."

"Shh," Shane says soothingly, holding Nate just as tight. "I'm not going to. I'm never going to leave you, not ever."

Nate sniffles a little, but still holds tight to his big brother. "You promise?" he wonders, his head on Shane's strong shoulder.

Shane nods, kissing the side of Nate's head. "I promise."

They sit like that a little while longer until Shane slowly, reluctantly, pulls away. He puts his hands on Nate's cheeks, wiping away the tears that had yet to dry with his thumbs.

"You should get back to working on your paper," Shane says as he stands up. "Are you done with the waffles?"

Nate nods. "Yeah," he answers. "They were great, Shane. Really."

Shane smiles, mock-conceited. "I know."

Nate rolls his eyes but laughs as he gets up to sit at his desk. He opens his laptop and goes back to work. Shane picks up the plate of waffles and walks to the door. He opens it and then turns back to Nate.

"It's Senior Skip Day tomorrow," Shane says. "I'm taking Mitchie to the beach for the day—that's pretty much her favorite place. Besides my arms, that is."

Shane sees the look Nate is giving him so he holds his hands up in front of his face.

"Her words, I swear!" Shane protests.

Nate laughs out loud. "Right."

Shane chuckles and shakes his head. "Anyway, I don't know when we'll be home. Can you cover for me?"

Nate flashes his brother a smile. "Don't I always?"

Shane smiles right back. "You know, you're okay. I might just keep you."

"Thanks, bro," Nate says, his hand over his heart. "That means so much to me."

Shane rolls his eyes playfully. "Don't stay up too late."

"Yes, Dad," Nate replies, exasperated.

Shane rolls his eyes again but laughs. "Love ya, kid."

Nate smiles up at him. "I love you, too."