The Sanders Sides

17 - Honesty

A few days had passed since the game night incident. Patton, ever the nurturer, found himself hovering around the library, where Logan was engrossed in a particularly thick tome. He fidgeted for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Logan," he began hesitantly, "Can I talk to you about something?"

Logan glanced up from his book, his brow furrowed slightly. "Of course, Patton. What's on your mind?"

Patton fidgeted again. "It's about Roman. You saw how...affected he was by the candle at game night, right?"

Logan nodded, his expression grave. "Indeed. It was a clear display of post-traumatic stress."

Patton winced. "PTSD. It sounds so...awful."

"It is," Logan confirmed. "The events of the accident are clearly causing him significant distress."

A heavy silence settled between them. Patton worried his bottom lip. "What can we do to help him, Logan?"

Logan sighed, steepling his fingers in thought. "We need to approach this delicately. Roman is...prideful. He might not be receptive to open discussions about his feelings."

"But we can't just ignore it, can we?" Patton's voice rose a notch, laced with worry. "He looked so scared."

"Of course not, Patton. We can offer subtle support. Perhaps creating a safe space for him to talk if he chooses to. We can also be mindful of triggers. The flickering flame likely reminded him of the car fire."

Patton nodded, a flicker of understanding lighting his eyes. "So, no more candles for a while, then?"

Logan smiled faintly. "Perhaps not. But more importantly, we can try to be there for him. Listen without judgment, be a source of comfort and stability."

"We can do that," Patton declared, a newfound determination in his voice. "We're his friends, Logan. And friends help each other through tough times."

A glimmer of hope flickered in Logan's eyes. "Indeed, Patton. Indeed."

They fell silent again, but this time it was a comfortable silence, filled with a shared determination to help their friend navigate the difficult path ahead.

The morning sun, uncharacteristically gentle for a Georgia summer, peeked through Roman's blinds, painting golden stripes across his dorm room floor. He stirred, the events of the previous night a faded memory tinged with a dull ache. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself out of bed, determined to face the day, and his friends, with a semblance of normalcy.

He emerged from his room, the familiar scent of burnt toast and brewing coffee wafting from the kitchen. There, in the heart of their makeshift living space, he found Patton flipping pancakes, a worried frown etched on his face. The sight of Patton, his best friend, looking concerned because of him, twisted a knot in Roman's gut.

"Roman!" Patton exclaimed, relief flooding his features. "There you are. I was starting to worry."

Roman forced a smile, his voice as bright and cheerful as he could muster. "Just overslept, that's all. Big dreams of conquering the stage, you know the drill."

Patton's frown returned, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. "Are you sure you're alright? You seemed... upset last night."

Roman waved his hand dismissively, a touch too quickly. "Oh, that? Just a bit of... creative frustration. You know how I get before a big audition."

A beat of silence followed, broken only by the sizzle of the pancakes. Roman hated the lie, the way it felt heavy on his tongue. He longed to tell Patton the truth, about the tangled web of emotions Janus's question had unearthed, but the words wouldn't come. He wasn't ready, not yet.