Page 178 of Chasing Headlines
“So your dad's not coming. The doctor said you need supervision, though. Got a girlfriend or someone to stay with you?”
Not a real one.The words flooded my mind, but what the hell did that even mean? I groaned. My brain needed to work. Everything was so confusing.
“Didn't think so. We're not allowed to leave you alone.” He sat down as if to demonstrate the point.
It struck me, then—not like a mechanical bull to the head, but, I was completely on my own. Mom wasn't on her way here. My father, even though they’d notified him, we weren’t on speaking terms.
In ten years from now, hell, even five years . . . Who would be here if I?—
“How far away is home?”
I shrugged. “This is it. College. Hospital. Wherever I sleep, I guess.”
“Yeah, I told my old man off, too.”
“It’s complicated. I guess. Maybe it’s really as simple as: we’ve never had anything in common.”
“I wish that were my case. This is my dad’s alma mater. He sends his checks addressed to the athletic program.”
“He played?”
“National championship. Left wing. Being here, I’ve managed to survive months at a time without hearing that story every day.” He grumbled and rolled his eyes.
“Go pro?”
“Ambition was there. Played in some European leagues. Then he met my mom and retired early. Regretted it, though.”
“My mom . . . She, uh, died. About eight months ago, now. Right around the time of the high school championship tournament. Became a living nightmare. Still is.”
For a long moment, the room fell quiet, as if it were . . . surprised by the news I'd shared. Was that the first time I said all of that out loud? What was it about head injuries that made me chatty?
“Sounds rough.”
Something other than the standard “I'm sorry”. “Yeah. Sure.”Shehadn't been sorry, either. Right?
“It's sad because of all the things she'll miss. But, I'm glad she lived.”
“Mine did, too. Been years, now. Some autoimmune thing I never understood.” Sender stared at the floor.
“Fucking sucks.” I held my tongue before I said I was sorry.
“My asshole father remarried my freshman year. Somehow, my brother and sister were just OK with it. I hated . . . everyone. Family’s always been difficult. Used to think it was all myfather's fault. But lately I’ve had to admit that I haven’t helped anything.”
I sighed. “I just realized . . . when you asked me if anyone, like a girlfriend, would check on me. I don’t have a family, anymore. I suppose it happens eventually. Just seems sudden.”
“We’re never as alone as we fear. Someone told me that once. But you do have to make room for people, and invite them in. Learn to be a friend. Put others first sometimes.” His mouth tilted. “My freshman year, I wanted to prove something. I don’t even remember what. I was just angry. About everything. Anything.”
“Seems like that changed.”
“Got injured. Met Remi. She thought I was such an asshole. I kinda was. But I at least knew, or figured out pretty quickly—I didn’t want to miss my chance with her.”
“Even if it means babysitting a fucked in the head baseball player in the hospital on a Sunday.”
“Still Saturday.” He wagged a finger at me. “But you’re catching on.”
“You gonna go pro? Do better than your old man?”
“I figure I can play for a few years, but I’m looking for my backup plan. Can't stay young forever. And I want to be a bettermanevery day. Not just break some records on the field.”