Page 128 of Changing the Playbook
Nothing. We both know it. Without that North Star, I’m just this—a ghost haunting his own apartment. I’ll get over it, because I have to—Sophie needs me to—but until then, fuck yeah I’m down in the dumps, and I’m not going to apologize for taking the time I need.
“Her mom was in the hospital and Sophie said she needs me,” I say. “And if I leave—if I’m in Calgary when it happens again—then…”
“You’re not her support animal! That’s not your fucking job!” Andy’s voice breaks. “If being with her means erasing yourself,that’s not love, Mike. That’s slow suicide with company, that’s detonating your own fucking life because she’s too scared to live her own.”
We sit in gathering darkness. The TV continues its silent mockery.
“You have a game in two days,” Andy says eventually.
“I know.”
“Will you play?”
The question weighs more than my equipment bag. “I don’t know.”
“Mike—”
“I’ll go. I’ll shower. Eat something. Show up.”
“I’m staying tonight,” she says in that tone that reminds me she’s related to me. “I’m crashing on the couch you bought thinking you’d be signing a pro contract.”
The irony stings, targeted and specific.
“And tomorrow, after Cornell, we’re talking. Really talking. Maybe calling your therapi?—”
“I’m not going back to therapy.”
“Then we’ll find something. But Mike…” She sighs. “This path leads nowhere good. You can’t white-knuckle through giving up your soul.”
“Drama runs in the family,” I attempt.
“Depression runs in the family,” she corrects. “There’s a difference.”
After she disappears to find sheets, I sit in my slightly cleaner apartment feeling exposed. Suddenly, my phone buzzes with Sophie’s name. Her contact photo—us laughing at something I can’t remember—feels like evidence from another life.
Can’t wait to see you!
I stare at the heart emoji until it blurs. My thumbs hover over the keyboard before I force myself to type:
Me too.
Six letters. The smallest lie I’ve ever told.
Andy reappears with bedding and catches me staring at the phone. “Sophie?”
I nod.
“And you’re pretending life’s wonderful?”
Another nod.
“Mike… if she loves you—really loves you—she needs to know.”
“She’ll blame herself.”
“Good,” Andy says quietly. “Maybe she should. Did she hesitate?”
I feel a spark of anger… emotion… for the first time in days. “What?”
