First, she takes the blood sample, which is easy, since I have very prominent veins. Then I have to pee with the door partially open, to make sure I don’t mess with the sample.
I know you’ve seen a lot more in dressing rooms, Lundy, but this feels like a fucking invasion of privacy, I complain, since I seem unable to pee with her watching.
Well, it’s not like I’m enjoying this either. Her eyes dart everywhere since she clearly doesn’t want to watch me, but has to. The technician seems almost bored, like she needs me to get on with it so she can get back to work.
At least I have nice underwear on. Although that thought takes me right back down the Mats track, which is not where I want to go. He used to admire me, and what would he think now? I’m an accused drug user. He’ll never want anything to do with me now.
Do you think they’ll take the captaincy away from me? I whine. Maybe I’m catastrophizing, but I’m fucking entitled.
Nellie, I have no clue about any of this. I only found out an hour ago. At the sight of my forlorn expression, Lundy adds, I’m sure if your tests come out clean, then things will go back to normal.
But what kind of captain causes all this fuckery right at the most crucial time of the season? On one hand, it’s not my fault that my brother is such a fuck-up; but, on a broader scale, it is. Because I have rescued Jordan time after time, and now he seems to think it’s his due. He believes that everyone owes him something because his life hasn’t turned out the way he wanted.
I finally pee and hand the sample tube over to the technician. As I wash up, I glance at myself in the mirror. I’m struck by how miserable I look—so unlike my usual sunny expression. This day has been humiliating; the lowest moment of a completely fucked-up week. And it’s all because of my family. They’re a fucking anchor on my life.
24
HOME SWEET HOME
CLEO
I RUN HOME, AS IF PUTTING PHYSICAL DISTANCE BETWEEN MYSELF AND THE CLINIC WILL MAKE THE drug problem disappear. Of course, it doesn’t, and by the time I arrive, I’m even more upset. My life is like a horror movie pit, where each time I reach the top, the demons drag me back in.
Of course, none of my roommates are home when I get back because they’re all at class, where I should be. I don’t need to add failing my courses to the shit show that is my life right now, but there’s no way I could sit through a lecture without exploding.
I have a snack and try to calm down. Woolly and Knudy are the first ones home.
Are you sick or something, Nellie? Woolly asks worriedly.
I’m curled up on the couch under three blankets, so she might get the impression that I’m not well.
No, I’m fucked. The story of my drug test and suspension bursts out of me, followed by the tale of my brother’s involvement. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling everyone, but all this shit is going to hit the fan at any moment.
Holy flaming shit-balls, says Becks, who came home in the middle of my sad tale. So, you can’t play in our first playoff game?
Maybe you should get a lawyer or something? Isn’t this defamation of character? Woolly asks.
Who am I going to sue? My brother? He must be the world’s most unsuccessful drug dealer, because he still borrows money from me, I complain.
Have you heard from your family yet? Knudy asks.
I pull out my phone. There are messages from both my mother and my father, and they’re fucking insane. What is wrong with my family?
I spit out the words, Get this. My father is asking if I can find some character witnesses for my brother here at Monarch.
Good fucking luck with that, Becks says. More like character assassins, since nobody on his team liked him. Word is that he was bullying his own teammates.
Really? Who? Why am I even surprised at this point? I’m almost numb with all the hits I’ve taken today.
I don’t know any specifics. But there were rumours of name-calling and fighting at practice, she says.
Woolly can’t even comprehend this level of fuckery. Incroyable. Why would he do that?
Don’t ask me. I’m apparently the only normal person in my family. I hold up my phone. They’re having a family meeting tonight, and my mom wants me to join in on Zoom or something because ‘I always have the best ideas.’ I don’t even know what the fuck that means. Maybe I can brainstorm twenty-one creative ways to keep my brother out of prison?
Becks snorts with laughter, then says seriously, Maybe that’s where he belongs.
I stare at her, open-mouthed. I mean, I’m upset, but I don’t wish that on him.
