Chapter Ten
TEN
That night, shivering in your river-dampened sleeping bag, you dream of Tennessee.
Specifically, a dark highway in Tennessee.
Lit-up billboards for pecan farms and megachurches.
Fields of abandoned machinery. It was the last trip you ever took with your brother, the whole family crammed into a van for a cold-weather pilgrimage to Florida.
Your parents drove most of the way, arguing about exits and forcing you to listen to true-crime podcasts that seemed to get more and more violent the farther south you got.
But when the sun went down, they handed the keys to Sean and fell asleep in the back seat.
So it was just the two of you up front, headlights carving out a path through the night, your parents snoring behind you, too tired to wait for the cheap hotel in Chattanooga.
The trip had been sprung on you by surprise. Your mom had been working overtime at the hospital, and there was some extra money for once. Not enough to fly, but enough for a room someplace warm if the old Honda Odyssey could make it. Also, the mood in your house had been low lately.
Sean had been favored to win State this year.
Nearly everyone who wrote about local sports had him as a lock.
But on the day of the tournament, in one of his preliminary dives, he attempted a reverse three-and-a-half somersault and scraped his head against the board.
The place went silent. There was blood in the water.
He managed to get out of the pool on his own, but he was immediately taken to the hospital for stitches and ended up missing the biggest recruiting opportunity of the year.
He was devastated, and you barely saw him in the weeks afterward, as he recovered from his concussion.
Part of you suspected that this whole family journey was a cheer-up-Sean mission.
“Sunshine and strip malls aren’t going to heal Sean’s head,” said your dad when your mom suggested the trip.
“Well,” she said. “A little vitamin D can’t hurt! Not sure about the strip malls…”
What went unmentioned in that conversation, like most other conversations in your family, was just how severe your anxiety had been lately.
But your mom was definitely aware. You had taken more mental health days in the past month than you’d ever taken before, and on two different occasions, she had caught you downstairs around 3 A.M. walking circles around the living room arguing with yourself.
Your anxiety was always worse in the winter, so you could chalk it up to the seasons, but even you knew there was something else going on.
Namely, you had realized your feelings for Diana, and the guilt was tearing you apart.
Last week, when you got home from another night of Serbian vulgarities at Perkins, you had even tried writing a letter explaining it, telling her all the reasons why you didn’t want it to happen, but how it had happened anyway, and how you knew nothing could or should come of it, but that keeping the secret might be killing you.
Sean, who was having trouble sleeping on his stitches, found you writing late at night, and asked what you were doing.
“Nothing,” you said, and quickly closed the notebook.
Even thinking about telling Sean made your whole body feel like it had been drained and filled with battery acid.
Especially after his recent disappointment.
How could he see your feelings as anything other than a breach of trust at the worst possible time?
But now here you were, side by side with him, nothing but silence and the open road ahead of you for the next half an hour, and it felt like there might never be a better time to confess your sin. So why couldn’t you open your mouth?
About twenty-five miles from Chattanooga, you passed a school bus painted bright pink with four deflated tires and a sign in the window that read COLD BEER AND BIKINIS!
It sat near an exit for a small town, with an arrow painted on the side, imploring you to take a detour and seek your fortune in Fairfield.
Right above it, however, was a looming sign for a small church that read SURRENDER TO JESUS in all caps.
You looked over at Sean to see if he was clocking this, and he cracked a smile.
“It’s going down in Fairfield tonight!” he said, and in spite of the ball of tension in your chest, you laughed.
Your dad, who had been lightly snoring in the back seat, let out a high-pitched snort, which got you going all over again. And you could feel your nervous energy starting to relent.
“What if we just parked in the lot of the bikini place and waited for them to wake up,” you said. “We could hide behind the car so they’d think we’re inside!”
Sean smiled.
“I don’t know. They might actually be happy,” he said.
“What do you mean? Why?!”
He looked straight ahead at the road.
“They’d think you were feeling better.”
You were quiet for a moment after that. You didn’t even know Sean was aware of your recent anxiety spike. He always seemed so absorbed in his own world, especially lately. It shocked you to know he’d been paying attention.
“You’ve had a lot going on,” you said. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Are you kidding me?” he said. “Look at your leg right now!”
You glanced down to find your right leg bouncing like a rabbit’s. You didn’t even bother trying to stop it.
“I know you, Case,” he said. “It’s those twin vibes.”
This is something he joked about when you were young. Around the neighborhood, even though you were two years younger, he told everyone you were twins. Then he dared the kids not to believe it.
“I’m fine,” you said.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” he said. “You can lie to everyone else if you want to. But I don’t care. You can be honest with me. And you can be miserable if you want. You don’t have to pretend.”
The word honest jabbed at you, and for a moment, you were on the verge of telling him everything.
Maybe he’d just laugh it off. Of course you fell in love with her!
She’s beautiful! Now let’s figure this out.
But still, you couldn’t do it. You were so afraid of truly disappointing him that it made the whole thing seem impossible. So instead, you asked him a question.
“Where have you been since the tournament?”
Then it was Sean’s turn to get quiet. He looked in the rearview mirror at your sleeping parents. You’re not sure why; they were two of the loudest, most obvious sleepers in the world. But it let you know immediately that something was wrong.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said quietly. “I just haven’t found the right time.”
You watched his hands tighten on the wheel.
“I met somebody.”
Your leg stopped.
“What? You mean … like, a girl?”
“It’s not what you think, okay? She works at the ice cream store, and we just became friends. I’ve been picking up some extra shifts since I can’t practice, and she’s fun to pass the time with. But the thing is…”
“She’s interested in you,” you sighed.
It was a familiar story.
“I didn’t think she was! And then there was this day when my head actually felt clear for once and we were daring each other to go in the Deepfreeze and close the door, and she just followed me in and kissed me.”
This was the way Sean always described his interactions with girls. He never claimed to have any power. Things just happened, and it was as if he wasn’t even in his body to experience it.
“So what happened after that?”
“We’ve been hanging out after work sometimes.
Making out in the parking garage. Just talking in her car.
I was pretty broken up about State. All the work I put in for that one goal, and then it was just gone.
It passed me by and no one even seemed to care, like maybe it wasn’t important in the first place.
She listened, and I guess it felt kind of nice. ”
His face was hard to read, and you couldn’t tell where he was going with this. But if history was any indicator, you had a hunch.
“So you’re breaking up with Diana, then?”
For an awful moment your heart soared. A camper van passed by with a bike fastened to the back, its front wheel spinning madly. Sean exhaled, and when you looked back at him, it seemed like he was about to cry.
“Sean?” you said.
“No,” he said.
“No…”
“No, I’m not breaking up with Diana.”
He exhaled again and blinked.
“Last night, we were sitting in her car, the girl’s car, and she was putting her shirt back on and I just kind of had this moment of clarity about the whole thing.
Like: What is wrong with me? I don’t get what I want in diving, so I just go out looking for the next thing.
The next little thrill that’s going to get me out of my head.
I get so itchy sometimes, you know, like I can’t even be in my own skin! Does that make sense?”
You nodded.
“And listen,” he said, “it would be fun to keep making out with this girl in the freezer at work, but she doesn’t know me or even really like me that much probably. But Diana…”
“She knows you,” you said.
“Exactly!” he said. “And she’s real. She doesn’t take any shit from me. You probably think I’m an idiot right now that I’m finally getting this. But I didn’t use to care. I didn’t care if it was real. I think I might care this time.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” you said so softly it was barely audible.
“Well, I am!” he said. “I’ve been screwing up what could be this beautiful thing.
And you’ve been doing so much to cover for me.
I was putting everything into training that I hardly saw her.
And where did that get me? Meanwhile, you’ve basically been keeping her happy.
That was such a kind thing to do, Case. She probably would have left me months ago if it wasn’t for you.
And I just want you to know that when we get back, you don’t have to do that anymore, okay? ”
He put his hand on your shoulder.
“You’ve got enough going on, man. You don’t need to be taking my girlfriend out. That is just above and beyond! You don’t have to be a saint.”
You watched a tear roll down his cheek. He sniffled and smiled.
“God, it feels so good to tell someone about this,” he said. “You’re the only person I can talk to about it.”
His right hand was still on your shoulder, and you wanted more than anything for him to take it off.
But there was no way to do that without having to explain yourself.
So you let him keep it there, while, inside, it felt like your lungs might not be able to take in a breath ever again.
Your heart was shattered. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you felt terrible for feeling the heartbreak. Your pain itself was a betrayal.
Having said what he wanted to, Sean took a moment to collect himself, then turned on some music, and the two of you drove without speaking for the next twenty-or-so miles until you finally woke your parents and ate Memphis-style ribs at a little restaurant near your hotel.
And though you were near silent at dinner too, no one else really noticed, and they all laughed when the server told you that snow had swirled down from the mountains last week and caused fifty-three fender benders in an hour because people didn’t know how to drive on it.
You didn’t laugh, though. You knew why they crashed.
They just never saw it coming.