One night in late November, I sat behind the bars, listening to the music of Frenchmen Street after my shift at work. It still amazed me a bit how much it felt like home back there in those dirty areas. As I listened to the music of the bluegrass bar, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. When I sat behind those bars, I did the most overthinking I allowed myself to do. Ninety-eight percent of the time, I was perfect. I was happy and healthy, and my mind never went to dark places.

But during those two percent, my mind did wander.

Mama hadn’t called me once.

Whenever I spoke to Ray, I’d ask him if she’d reached out to him, but the answer was always no. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The way she and I had left things had been rough, so it wasn’t shocking when I had no emails or messages from her at all.

But still…

If I had a daughter, I’d at least want to know she was safe.

If I had a daughter, I’d do better than Mama.

“Jasmine.”

My eyes shot open at the sound of my name, and when I saw Elliott standing in front of me, my gut tightened. “What are you doing here? Oh my gosh, is it TJ? Is he all right?” I asked, hopping off the dumpster.

“He’s fine. I had my mom stop by to stay with him for the night. He told me you come here after you’re done at work. I just…” His eyes shifted around in the alleyway, and his hands were in fists.

Oh my God…

“Eli, is this where it happened…?” I whispered.

He shut his eyes for a second and nodded. “Yes.”

“Have you been here since?”

“No.”

“What are you doing here? Are you okay? What’s going on?” I asked, rambling off questions, seeing the intensity of the moment for him. Sweat lined his forehead, and he grimaced.

“I need your help.”

“Anything,” I told him. “Anything you need.”

“TJ’s lost, and I want to help him. He had a b-bad night tonight, and I need to do something. I can’t keep watching him be so broken.”

“You came here…into this alleyway…because you’re worried about him?” I asked. He nodded. “Eli…why would you do that? I can only imagine how hard it is for you to be here.”

“When we had no one, he stepped up. When we had nothing, he saved us.” His voice shook. “My father walked out, and TJ stepped in without q-question. When Katie…” He paused and swallowed hard. “When Katie died, TJ stayed and helped my mom when I ran away. He always saved us, and now he’s broken, and I want to help him.”

“How can we do that? How can we help?”

“H-he thinks his music died. We just need to prove to him that it didn’t.”

“How?”

He began to tell me his plan of action, and every word he spoke made my heart do cartwheels. Every idea he tossed out was perfect. In that moment, he was the sweet boy who stood up for me, for his sister, for his mother. Elliott was exactly what he’d always been—caring.

“Do you think it will help?” he asked.

“I think it will.”

“Good,” he muttered. “Good, good. Okay, well, goodbye.” He started off, and my heart was in my throat.

“Elliott, wait!”

He turned around to face me. “What is it?”

My mind blanked. There was a slight tremble in my body, and I rubbed my hand up and down my arm. “Never mind. Go ahead. Good night.”

“What is it?” he asked again. I stepped forward and then back. My body was battling my mind, and he saw the struggle I was dealing with. He walked closer to me. “Jasmine?”

In a flash, I leaped toward him and wrapped my arms around his body. I pulled him into a hug, and I was certain he’d push me away. I was invading his space, and everything I’d learned about him lately told me he wouldn’t appreciate it, but I couldn’t help it. Knowing where he was standing, knowing how hard it must’ve been for him to come back to that alleyway…I couldn’t not hold him. I couldn’t just let him walk away and feel alone. My hug was a reminder that he wasn’t alone out there. My hug was a safety net just in case he needed to fall.

He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t hug me back. I could feel his sadness, his pain, his heart. I could only imagine how long he’d been drowning in his sadness.

Then, out of nowhere, a miracle happened. His hands wrapped around my back, and he pulled me in closer to him. He allowed me to hold him, and he held me right back. He didn’t let me go, and that simple fact made me want to cry. Elliott Adams, the boy who hardly opened up to anyone anymore, was allowing me to get close to him. I held on so tightly to him, because I could tell how much he needed to be held that night.

I was so thankful he held me back.