It’s not focused in one place. It’s in my entire body. My skin throbs with blood, as if every part of me is tender and bruised. My legs—God, my legs. I sleep curled on my side, but that was the wrong thing to do. They’re so stiff that the slightest movement sends searing pain tearing through my thighs. Surprisingly, my back muscles are sore as well.
I can’t move.
This is going to be a problem. If I can’t walk, I can’t get to class.
It’s with reluctance that the pain gives me a new appreciation for athletes. People like my brothers. Sebastian and Kellan always talk about soccer. It’s their obsession, their everything. For the most part, I tune it out. But I realize now how physically fit you have to be. The things we did yesterday—what were they called, suicides? I thought I was going to die.
I decide to lay in bed for another ten minutes before getting up. Reaching over to my bedside table, I grab my phone. I do a double take to make sure I’m not imagining things. I have fifty text messages waiting for me, both from Kellan and Sebastian. I sigh. This is going to be fun.
I begin scrolling through Sebastian’s texts first. After snapping at him last night, I was hoping he would leave me alone.
You fucking moron. You’re supposed to at least look like you know what you’re doing on the field. I thought you were smarter than this?
And:
News flash: the way you play soccer is by kicking the ball with your foot. Think you can do that next time?
And my favorite:
Keep sucking and I’ll kick your ass.
I snort at the last one. Sebastian—always trying to get a rise out of people.
Then I check my texts from Kellan. They’re not of the angry variety. More of the whiny, passive-aggressive I-have-to-let-my-brothers-drive-my-car variety.
Sebastian told me you sucked yesterday. Don’t suck please. I have a reputation to uphold and I don’t need you ruining it. The guys already think I have crabs.
I chuckle at that.
Also, if the guys go out just make an excuse next time. The less time you spend with them, the less likely they are to pick up the fact that you’re not me.
I respond happily with,Will do.
Next order of business is to check my internship status. I applied for a summer internship in Seattle with a video game company. They only accept five applicants out of a pool of over three hundred. Booting up my laptop, I head to the website. My application is still in review. The company said they’d email the winners, but I’m anxious. In order to apply, you have to send a sample of a video game, either in finished form or separate parts: coding, storyboarding, animation samples. Even though Miaku isn’t finished, it’s my best project to date, so I sent it in. Winning this internship would not only look awesome on my resume, but it would provide an excellent networking opportunity as well.
With nothing to do but wait for an email that might never come, I close my laptop. Class starts in twenty minutes. I have just enough time to find a parking space if I leave now without breakfast.
Getting dressed is a painful ordeal, as is descending the stairs to the parking lot. While Sebastian and Kellan live in the same apartment complex, Maverick and I live in a different complex across town, since there’s no need to live near the athletic facilities. I make a note to stop by Mav’s place at some point this week before Friday night family dinner. Lately, he’s been staying with our parents as he continues to heal from the death of his long-time girlfriend, which occurred a few months back. It’s a slow process. We never speak of it. Come to think of it, I don’t know if he’s spoken to anyone about it. As far as I know, Mav isn’t going to therapy, though I could be wrong.
I unlock and slide into my used Toyota Corolla, which I bought off an old man whose wife passed away. It was a great price, and the car came well-maintained with very low mileage. I figure I’ll drive this car for another ten years at least. Whereas my brothers are all about looks—A Ferrari for Sebastian, a Lamborghini for Kellan, and an Audi for Mav, though he hasn’t touched it since Kaylie passed—I’m about saving as much as I can. They all dipped into their trust funds to purchase those vehicles. I want to retire at forty, though I might be able to shave five years off that if I’m careful. So long as my end goals of founding my own video game company are realized, I’ll do whatever it takes.
Campus is only a fifteen-minute drive away. I manage to find a parking space near the computer science building, but with my sore body, I can’t walk as fast. Five minutes after class starts, I quietly take a seat in the back of the room. For the most part, I zone out. Normally I’m in the front row, taking notes, speaking to the professor following the lecture. Today, my body and brain are too tired to do anything. Besides, I already know most of the material. I read ahead in the textbook because I wanted to figure out how to fix a bug in my video game.
Before I know it, class is dismissed. While everyone files out, I stay behind to ask a few clarifying questions. That turns into a twenty-minute conversation about Miaku’s progress. Dr. Schultz is the one who wrote me a letter of recommendation for the internship. He’s told me over and over that he plans on being the first to buy Miaku when it’s on the market, and I hold it to him. He is one of the few people I feel comfortable enough sharing my work with.
After leaving with a promise to send any further questions his way, I make my way down the hall. It’s as I’m slipping between two groups of students that I do a double take at the guy I just passed.
As if sensing me watching him, Max lifts his head.
His eyes widen, and he slows.
Fuck.
We stand in the middle of a moving crowd. Someone jostles me against my back, sending me stumbling a few inches closer. Max wears well-worn jeans that fit him like a glove and a Zelda shirt.
Wait…
I check again. It’s most definitely a Zelda shirt. I’m so speechless I don’t know what to do except stare and blink like an idiot. Definitely did not expect that.
