Julie’s birthday party was chaos in the best way possible—but her house? That was something else entirely.

  When Ezra pulled up to the massive iron-wrought gates, fnked by towering stone pilrs, his first thought was holy shit, she lives in a castle. The driveway alone was longer than his entire street, lined with sculpted hedges, pristine white stone, and a goddamn fountain—because of course, rich people needed those in their front yard.

  The house—no, mansion—was exactly the kind of pce you’d expect a politician’s kid to live. Huge arched windows, a columned entrance, and a roof so steep it probably had its own zip code. Ezra knew Julie had money, but this? This was Governor’s Club money.

  Inside, the pce was just as ridiculous—crystal chandeliers, sweeping staircases, and more marble than any house had the right to have. The guests matched the atmosphere—kids dressed in tailored clothes, their ughter polished and sharp, their smiles hiding knives.

  Ezra immediately stuck out like a sore thumb.

  He barely had time to process it all before the other kids descended like vultures.

  “Oh, Julie invited a charity case this year?” a boy with slicked-back hair sneered, sipping some stupidly tiny gss of sparkling juice.

  “Is this, like, a new program for underprivileged kids?” a girl with perfectly curled blonde hair mused, tilting her head at Ezra like he was some zoo attraction.

  Another boy snickered, eyeing Ezra’s clothes. “You know, I didn’t think you could buy jeans at the gas station, but I guess I was wrong.”

  Ezra clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching at his sides. He could handle Bruiser. He could handle school bullies. But this? This was another level. These kids didn’t shove you, they dismantled you with words so effortless it was like breathing to them.

  “Julie,” one of the girls sighed dramatically, fake sympathy dripping from her voice. “Didn’t your dad tell you not to bring commoners into our circle?”

  Julie snapped.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Vanessa,” she said, voice dripping with venomous sweetness. “I didn’t realize this was your party.”

  The girl—Vanessa—huffed, tossing her hair. “I was just—”

  “You were just fpping your mouth again,” Julie cut in. Then she spun toward the slick-haired boy, eyes narrowing. “And you, Frederick—st I checked, your dad’s company is on the verge of colpse, so maybe worry about that instead of where Ezra bought his clothes.”

  Frederick’s face flushed red.

  Julie turned to the blonde girl, who suddenly looked less confident. “And you, Bianca—I’d be careful about mocking gas stations when your mom’s on her third nose job from a botched Botox appointment.”

  The entire room fell silent.

  Vanessa’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

  Julie grinned, grabbed Ezra’s arm, and yanked him away. “C’mon,” she huffed. “Let’s leave these poodles to their circle jerk.”

  Ezra, still processing, barely managed to stammer, “Did you just—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I just wrecked them,” Julie muttered, dragging him toward the bounce house in the backyard. “Now let’s go jump off shit before I punch someone.”

  Ezra blinked.

  Then, despite everything, he grinned.

  Yeah. Julie was the best.

  Loud music, mountains of food, and the main event—a massive, inftable bounce house with an attached balcony where kids could jump into a sprawling ball pit below. It was, in Julie’s words, "The ultimate unchpad for greatness."

  Ezra wasn’t so sure about greatness, but he had to admit—it looked fun.

  Julie, of course, had grander pns.

  She sprinted up to him, practically vibrating with excitement, and shoved her phone into his hands. “You. Record me.”

  Ezra raised an eyebrow. “What exactly am I recording?”

  She pointed to the highest part of the bounce house balcony. “My legendary cannonball into history.”

  Ezra sighed, already sensing disaster. “Julie—”

  “Nope! No talking me out of it,” she said, already climbing. “Just make sure to get my good angle!”

  Ezra groaned but held up the phone, adjusting the shot. “If you break your legs, I’m sending this to the paramedics.”

  Julie just grinned, giving him a double thumbs-up before she turned, preparing for her leap.

  Then—

  Ezra shifted his foot and felt nothing beneath it.

  His stomach dropped.

  The bounce house was leaking air.

  A split seam ran along the side, right where Julie’s cannonball would have nded. The cut was small but widening fast, turning what should have been a soft, cushioned pit into a treacherous nding zone.

  Ezra’s heart smmed against his ribs.

  “Julie—WAIT!”

  She didn’t hear him.

  Her knees bent, arms spread—

  She jumped.

  There was no time to think.

  Ezra dove into the ball pit, twisting mid-air just in time to throw himself directly under Julie’s falling body.

  WHAM.

  Pain.

  Crushing, white-hot pain.

  The moment she nded, the air was smmed from his lungs. The weight of her impact sent a violent shock through his body—something cracked—and a second ter, Ezra was gasping, his vision blurring, his ribs feeling like they had just been reduced to rubble.

  The world around him spun—distant shouting, someone calling for help.

  Through the haze, Julie scrambled off him, her hands shaking. “Ezra?! Ezra, what the hell?!”

  Ezra groaned. Talking hurt. Breathing hurt. Existing hurt.

  He could barely manage a croaked, “You’re welcome.”

  Then—chaos. Adults rushing over, the wail of an ambunce in the distance, hands carefully lifting him onto a stretcher. Pain. Pain. Pain.

  And then—

  Darkness.

  When Ezra woke up, he was in a hospital bed, the ceiling too bright, the smell of antiseptic sharp in his nose. His ribs were on fire, and every breath felt like someone was stomping on his chest.

  But he was alive.

  And judging by the sound of someone furiously pacing nearby, Julie was, too.

  He turned his head—yep. There she was, practically wearing a hole in the floor. Her dad, Mr. Keykey, stood nearby, arms crossed, looking like a man trying not to freak out.

  Julie froze the second she saw him awake.

  Then, in a blur, she was right next to him, eyes wide, face pale with guilt.

  “Ezra,” she breathed, hands hovering over the hospital bed railing, like she wanted to grab him but was too afraid of breaking him more.

  Ezra groaned. “If you’re about to say I’m an idiot, I already know.”

  Julie let out a sharp, breathy ugh—but there were tears in her eyes.

  “You saved me,” she whispered, voice thick. “You could’ve died, you moron.”

  Ezra tried to shrug. Bad idea. A wave of pain shot through his ribs. He hissed. “Yeah, well… maybe don’t cannonball into defective bounce houses.”

  Julie sniffed, rubbing her arm, looking more shaken than he’d ever seen her.

  That was when Mr. Keykey stepped forward, his normally confident, commanding presence a little softer than usual.

  “You’re one hell of a kid,” he said gruffly. “But what you did was dangerous. You could’ve been hurt a lot worse.”

  Ezra sighed. “Mistakes happen.” He gnced at Julie before looking back at Mr. Keykey. “But my dad always says… mistakes don’t have to hold you down.”

  The man’s expression shifted, something flickering in his eyes.

  After a long pause, he nodded.

  Julie, however, wasn’t done.

  She grabbed his hand—gently, like he was made of gss. “Ezra,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

  Ezra blinked.

  She squeezed his hand.

  “I don’t care what those assholes at school say about you.” Her voice wobbled. “You’re not weak. You’re not ‘weird.’ You’re not any of the things they say.”

  Ezra swallowed hard. He knew of the cumstain nickname, but there was more??

  Julie held his gaze.

  “You’re brave.”

  Ezra looked away, feeling heat rise to his face. “Well… you know. Someone’s gotta keep you from dying.”

  Julie let out a watery ugh. “Shut up.”

  For a long time, they just sat there.

  Mr. Keykey finally cleared his throat. “I’ll let you two talk. I need to check in with the doctor.”

  Once he was gone, Julie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You scared the hell out of me, Ezra.”

  Ezra smirked weakly. “Scared myself too.”

  Julie huffed. “Never do that again.”

  “I promise nothing.”

  She rolled her eyes, but there was relief in them now.

  And as they sat there—his ribs broken, her nerves shot, but both of them alive—Ezra realized something.

  He didn’t need everyone at school to respect him.

  He didn’t need every kid in the cafeteria to stop mocking him.

  Because the people who mattered—

  They already knew who he really was.

  The drive home from the hospital was mercifully quiet, the hum of the car engine filling the space between Ezra and his dad. The painkillers were still doing their job, dulling the worst of the soreness, but his ribs still ached like hell every time the car hit a bump.

  Seth, hands steady on the wheel, gave him a sidelong gnce.

  "So," he said casually, "wanna tell me how exactly you ended up in the hospital for a birthday party injury?"

  Ezra sighed, slumping against the passenger seat. “Julie was gonna do a cannonball off the bounce house balcony into the ball pit, but—”

  “—Wait, wait, wait.” Seth held up a hand like he needed to pause reality itself. “Let’s rewind real quick. You’re telling me that these kids’ parents bought a bounce house with a balcony?”

  Ezra blinked. “Uh… yeah?”

  Seth let out a low whistle. “Man, I grew up with bounce houses where you were lucky if they weren’t duct-taped together at the seams. These kids got two-story bounce castles?” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “I clearly messed up raising you in the wrong tax bracket.”

  Ezra snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway—Julie jumps, and I realize the bounce house has a rip in it, so I jump in first to break her fall.”

  Seth drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, nodding. "Mhm. Heroic. Selfless. Cssic Ezra. But..." His lips twitched. "That’s not quite what I heard from Mr. Keykey."

  Ezra blinked. “What?”

  Seth hummed dramatically, as if recalling an epic tale. “Oh yeah. According to him, you didn’t just jump into the ball pit—you dived in like a noble warrior, sacrificing yourself for the greater good.”

  Ezra rolled his eyes. “I mean, I did dive, technically.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, that’s not how Mr. Keykey told it,” Seth said, grinning now. “He said you soared through the air, flipping twice, arms spread like some kind of divine protector of children’s bounce houses.”

  Ezra huffed out a ugh. “That’s not what happened.”

  “No? Because I heard you let out a battle cry—something like, 'I GOT YOU, JULIE!'—before shielding her with your iron ribcage of justice.”

  Ezra snorted, covering his mouth. “That’s not what I said!”

  “C’mon, kid, we’re already here. Just own it.” Seth waved a hand in mock grandeur. “It’s a legendary moment. Ezra, the Guardian of the Ball Pit.”

  Ezra grinned. He could py this game too.

  “Well, actually,” he said, settling into the ridiculousness, “I did scream something. It was way cooler, though.”

  Seth raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Hit me.”

  Ezra paused for dramatic effect before bellowing, “'YOU SHALL NOT FALL!'”

  Seth let out a sharp bark of ughter, nearly swerving the car.

  “Okay, that’s good,” he wheezed, wiping at his eyes.

  “And, uh,” Ezra smirked, “I actually did flip twice. But not on purpose. It was, uh… gravity-assisted.”

  Seth shook his head, grinning. “Right, right. Because when Ezra, the Guardian of the Ball Pit, leaps into action, gravity itself bends to his will.”

  Ezra dramatically pressed a hand to his chest. “I am one with the bounce house.”

  Seth howled, smacking the steering wheel. “Oh, hell yeah, that’s going in the story forever.”

  Ezra, still ughing, and clutching his ribs in ughter and pain, leaned back against the seat, feeling lighter than he had in days.

  The bruises still ached, his ribs still stung—but at that moment, none of it mattered.

  Because this?

  This was good.