“It won’t be the end of the world if we lose,” Ian says with a shrug.
I feel my hackles rise. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“How’s that?” he asks, looking genuinely confused.
I scowl into my mug. “You’re thinking of retiring. What do you care if we win or lose?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Ian says, sounding genuinely irritated. “Of course I want us to win. Especially if it’s my last year. But I’m not going to let it ruin my whole life if we don’t.”
Something about the way he says it cuts straight through me, and I feel that increasingly familiar knot forming in my stomach, feeling like Ian is talking directlyto mewhen he says shit like that.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “It’s just been a long day.”
“And I’m sure you’re hurting,” Dee points out.
My lips purse. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” Dee sighs. “But eventually, you’ll have to talk to us about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say vehemently, lying through my teeth.
“You know that you can talk to us about anything,” Ian cuts in. “You don’t have to shoulder everything alone.”
I can feel that knot in my stomach rising higher into my chest, and I clench my hand under the table as my breath comes out a little shorter. That familiar tightening sensation in my lungs fills me with dread, because I can’t do this here. I can’t fall apart in this bar in the middle of all these people.Especiallynot Ian and Dee. They’ll never let me live it down if they find out I’m not as okay as I seem to be. It’ll be constant check-ins and babying out the wazoo.
It’s a complete surprise when I feel a small hand at my knee, giving it a soft squeeze, and when I flick my eyes to my left, Abby is there with an encouraging expression, giving me a little shakeof her head. She doesn’t have to say a word; for some reason, I can hear her silentkeep it togetherjust the same.
Funnily enough, it makes it a little easier to do so.
I blow out a breath, regarding my sister and pseudobrother once more.
“Look, I’m not going to pretend it’s not a fucking bummer that I won’t be able to play a full game for the rest of the season, but Iamgrateful to be playing at all, at the very least. It just feels like when we lose, or when we get too close to losing…It feels like it’s my fault.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ian says, shaking his head. “It doesn’t just fall on you.”
I feel another squeeze at my knee, this one saying,I told you so.
She removes her hand then, and there’s a part of me that wants to reach out and grab it. To put it right back where it was. There’s something comforting about Abby that makes me want to keep her around all the time. It’s probably because she’s so much smarter than me, and everything she says makes me feel less like a failure.
“It doesn’t stop it from feeling that way,” I say quietly.
“Jack…” Dee trails off, pity in her eyes.
I hate that look. She’s not supposed to look at me that way. I’m supposed to be there forher. That’s how it’s always been. Ever since we were kids. Seeing her worrying over me just fills me with more guilt.
“Yo, guys!” Jankowski pushes his way through the crowd, interrupting us. “We’re putting together a darts tournament. You in?”
Ian looks at me expectantly. “Could be fun?”
“I suck at darts,” Dee laments.
Ian laughs as he leans down to kiss her cheek. “We can be partners.”
And there’s nothing I’d rather do less right now than play darts with a bunch of guys hopped up on a win that I feel like I don’t deserve to be a part of—but I don’t know how to say that.
“I really am tired,” I try. “That last hit really wore me out.”
Jankowski’s brow furrows. “Oh yeah, man, I forgot about your arm. You should probably rest that up, yeah?”
