I splutter as my heart jams its way up my throat, but Cauler just laughs and sits up, stretching his arms above his head. “Chill, Terzo. I know PDA is dangerous.” He stands and holds a hand out to help me up, and I want to scream. I kind of just stare blankly at it for a second before reaching up.
He looks me in the eyes. Full-on, deep eye contact as he hauls me to my feet. He pulls me closer than he needs to, holds on for a beat longer than necessary, and for a second I swear he’s gonna do it. Prying eyes be damned. I bite my lip and look at his mouth and wait for it.
He turns away just when I’m about to lean in, and I follow him back to the library with my heart in my stomach.
NINETEEN
Cauler and I have sex again a few more times before Thanksgiving break, and thank god we don’t have any games coming up over the next few days, because he leaves me with this giant hickey to remember him by the last time.
The boys who stayed behind at the hockey house spend the whole of Thanksgiving dinner trying to figure out who I got it from. The general consensus is that Nova flew in last night for an international booty call. Cauler’s name doesn’t even come up, and I’m pretty sure it’s intentional.
I’m half-asleep on the couch after dinner when my phone goes off, startling me awake with a message from Cauler.
Jaysen: How’s zero’s cooking
I glance around the living room. There’s a football game on TV, and Colie’s passed out in the recliner across the room, mouth open and snoring. Everyone else seems to have migrated toward the alcohol in the kitchen.
Mickey: Not bad actually Turkey’s a little dry but i just drowned it in gravy
How’s home?
Jaysen: Nice
If you notice any welts on me when i get back, don’t be alarmed My cousin rashida takes barbarian ping pong very seriously
Okay, I have never heard of a version of Ping-Pong that would result in welts, but I can’t say I’m not intrigued. Before I can ask about it, though, Cauler sends another message.
Jaysen: Playing cards with the fam now and shae’s kicking my ass Seems i can’t win
He’s playing cards with his family and took the time to message me. That’s not what friends-with-benefits do, right? That’s gotta mean something more.
Mickey: Who’s shae
Jaysen: My brother
He asked about you
I look up again, make sure no one’s come in the room and Colie’s still sleeping.
Mickey: Oh?
Jaysen: Yeah
I mightve talked a lot of shit about you in the beginning And my family’s been keeping up wityh draft projections You’re the villain in this house
Mickey: My dad thinks the same about you
He called you a distraction
Jaysen: Is he right
My palms are sweating. I take a selfie with my neck in clear view and send it to him.
Mickey: You tell me
He sends a bunch of laughing emojis and then:
Jaysen: Looks good on you
Mickey: You would think so.
I glance toward the kitchen again. The only person I can see is Zero, sitting on the counter with a beer bottle in his hand, laughing at something out of sight. Paying no attention to me.
Mickey: Tell me about shae Jaysen: Dude he’s like
One of my favorite people
We’re pretty different, like he’s not into sports at all and he hates my music but he’s so smart I look up to him a lot but we’re nowhere near as close as you and your sisters Kinda jealous actually
“Who you texting?”
I swear I almost choke on my own heart when Delilah pops her head over the back of the couch and puts her chin on my shoulder. I slap my phone to my chest to hide the screen and glare at her.
She grins. “I think I can guess.”
My phone hums against my rib cage, making my heart skip. “I bet you’d be wrong.”
Delilah rolls her eyes. “Deny all you want, Mickey. But I know things.”
“Like what?”
She holds up her right hand. “I have been sworn to secrecy.”
“Delilah.”
“Mickey.”
“I’m your brother.”
She laughs a little and comes around the couch to sit next to me. She tucks one of her legs under her and turns to face me, cradling a wine cooler. She had dinner with her own team, so she missed the whole hickey conversation. When she sees me now, her nose scrunches in disgust. “Ugh, again? You’re such a teenager.”
I hike my shoulders like it’ll hide it. “Shut up.”
“So what’s the deal with you two?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Please tell me you’re boyfriends.”
“Oh my god.” I look around in a panic, but Colie’s still snoring and I can hear the bounce of a pong ball off a cup before the boys start yelling in the kitchen. “No. We’re not … dating.”
“Ugh. Men.”
“What do you care?”
She shrugs and takes a short sip of her drink. “I just think it’d be good for you. You’ve seemed better since this started.”
I frown at her. “Better?”
“Yeah, like…” She points a finger at her own head.
My stomach drops. I went so long without anyone ever catching on, and now it’s like everyone can see right through me. It’s one thing to tell people myself, but to be confronted with it, first by Dad, now by Delilah?
Anger flashes sudden and hot in the back of my skull. I try to stamp it out before it takes hold, but it settles in and pours out of my mouth anyway. “Better,” I snap. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
She seems so tired when she looks at me again, pinching her lips together and giving me these sad eyes. “Mickey, I wasn’t trying to—”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” I repeat. I stand and head for the kitchen.
I need a drink.
* * *
THE LAST TEXT I have from Mom is from back in the summer, when I was coaching at that lax camp with Bailey. My thumbs hover over the keyboard for ten whole minutes before I get the nerve to type.
Mickey: Hey mama
She answers right away, which kind of makes me feel bad.
Mom: Topolino! Happy Thanksgiving!
Mickey: Happy thanksgiving
Mom: Mi manchi
Mickey: Miss you too
Sorry i couldn’t come
Lot of homework
Mom: That’s ok. Christmas maybe?
Mickey: Maybe
I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. I can hear the rumble of the boys talking through the floor of the bathroom, where I sit on the closed toilet. I didn’t even drink that much, but I feel sick. Tired. Like I could crawl into bed and stay there for three years.
All because Delilah said something about me getting better. Like her pointing out that I have a problem made it come back, I don’t know.
My hands shake when I pick my phone back up and start typing again.
Mickey: So
Dad said something about depression
Like that you have it i guess
I don’t remember much from when i lived with you guys so i didn’t know
Mom: Yes. It runs in my family. Why? Are you ok?
Mickey: No
Not really
Mom: Let me get somewhere quiet and I’ll give you a call.
Mickey: Ok
Mom: Ti voglio bene Mickey.
Mickey: Love you too
* * *
I READ THROUGH the medication pamphlet three times before I even touch the pill bottle. It’s the same antidepressant Mom takes, at the lowest dosage to start. The list of side effects is so long, my mouth goes dry reading through them. But Mom said she just gained some weight. The only time she’s ever had a problem is when she missed a couple doses and started going through withdrawals.
I shake the bottle slowly, listening to the pills rattle as I stare at the ceiling.
Antidepressants.
Me. Taking antidepressants.
Me, Mickey James III, with such a bright, financially prosperous future ahead of me. So many people would kill to switch places with me. And here I am. With a bottle of antidepressants in my hand.
I don’t have a right to be depressed, I’d said to Mom. My life isn’t horrible. Nothing really bad’s ever happened to me.
Depression doesn’t care who you are or what you’ve been through, she said. It’s an illness that can happen to anyone.