Page 54 of The Midseason Fakeout

“Well, what do you want?”

“Shit, I don’t know. I’ve barely had time to think about it when all I keep thinking is that I don’t want to do what they want me to do. Then I see guys like you who are thriving, and your parents are so chill. They let you go wherever you wanted.”

“I mean, it’s where I got the scholarship. It’s just a bonus that Warner has a kickass team and was my number one choice.”

“But you made that happen.” His arms flex, turning his hands to fists as his voice rises. “Even if I was as good as you, my parents wouldn’t let me play sports. Doesn’t that sound crazy? What parents don’t love when their kid is so good at something that people will pay them to do it? It’s insane. Your mom is over there crying because she can’t wait to see you play tomorrow. My mom would be sobbing for a different reason. ‘Throwing my life away’ or some shit.”

“Just tell them no,” I state, getting angry on his behalf. “They can’t make you go to school somewhere you don’t want to go.”

After a moment, Darrin gives me a small smile and walks toward me. “Don’t worry about me, man. Make sure you and Bailey live it up before you have to do the whole long-distance thing.”

Long distance? No,my brain responds automatically.

Before I can say anything out loud, Darrin’s already halfway out the bathroom door. In the distance, Bailey is laughing while my mom talks with her hands. Dad peers between the two of them with a soft, happy smile.

I run my hands through my hair. I don’t like the position Darrin and Bails are in. It doesn’t seem fair, but I also don’t know what to do about it, so I just follow my best friend back to the table.

Once my dad sees us approaching, he calls the waiter over so he can pay the bill. Darrin and I sit once more, and I listen to my mom and Bailey interact. By the end of it, my mom has her and Darrin convinced to sit with them at the game using my family tickets and not student seating, which doesn’t take too much persuading considering family tickets are better seats. After my dad signs the receipt, we all stand together, and a pang hits me for not being able to do this a lot. See my family. Have real conversations.

On one hand, I like football because it’s constant. The games stay the same. Sure, you play against different players and teams, but the rules, the logistics, they never abruptly change. The way Darrin talks, we might not be able to do this again, and then how am I going to tell my parents that Bailey and I broke up and that she’s probably going to marry some dude who runs a software company out in California? That she owns a mansion and dogs and—God forbid—kids, and Darrin is over there every weekend with his wife for parties. And I’m… Well, do I even fit into that picture?

Every once in a while, real life hits me in the face, and it isn’t pretty.

My breaths come in short pants, and I close my eyes, searching for Bailey’s hand. The panic comes hard and fast like a freight train until my vision starts to blur.

When I was five, I used to have attacks. It was right after I moved in with my new family—this family. Mom and Dad would watch what they said around me because if something ever sounded like they were making a decision about me, I would freak out and hide in my room, lock the door, and cry. It was so bad they had to take the handle off my door.

I try to draw in a steady breath, but it doesn’t help. Shallow pants follow one after the other. I feel it in my toes first. A tingling. My body’s own version of a warning system that I’m about to boil over like a steaming pot but…

Bailey’s fingers finally find mine, and she squeezes me. Her hand grounds me to the present in one swift motion that I immediately feel back in control over my own body.

I force my eyes open and focus on my surroundings.Nothing is changing right now. Bailey and Darrin are still here.

I peer down at her, and I can’t believe how quickly things become the norm. I didn’t even know they were going to show up one day, yet now I’m already worried about their eventual departure.

My episodes are why Darrin hardly ever came to my house when we were kids. My parents loved to have him over, but it was the separation that would get to me. I’d have to gear myself up for it. Mom and Dad would have to pull me aside and remind me that in three days, Darrin had to go back home. Then two days, then the next day. They had to get me used to the idea that Darrin wouldn’t be there anymore.

It was different when I was at his house, though. I was the odd one out. It was easier to leave them because I didn’t truly belong there. It was more like a vacation with a friend.

The evening air washes over us as we step outside, my hand still firmly clinging to Bailey’s.

“Well, I’ve got a hot date,” Darrin informs us, flipping his car keys in his hand.

Bailey balks. “You have to drive me to the house.”

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you,” I offer. The truth is, I probably need her more than she needs me right now. When my parents leave, the feeling of losing them will be so much worse because I’ll have remembered what it was like to be around them.

…and this is why I like living in my own little world.

We make all the vehicle arrangements, and I hug my parents tight, telling them I’ll see them after the game tomorrow. Mom doesn’t want to let go. “We’ll see you tomorrow,” she promises and I feel like that little, scared boy again. “After that, we can come see you more often, Aidan. If it will help.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, my sweet boy. Tomorrow.”

My dad has to tug on her hand to get her to let me go, and then Bailey and I are in my Charger, driving to her place.

“Your mom is so nice.”

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