Page 8 of Fake Out

Anxiety gnaws at my insides, threatening to suffocate me. Sucking in deep breaths, I try to steady my racing heart.

“Come on, Charlie,” I mutter in between breaths. “You’ve got this. You’ve faced worse before.”

But it all feels different now — heavier, more desperate. My past victories seem a lifetime away, replaced by the weight of my recent failures. As I round a bend in the path, a familiar mantra pops into my head: one foot in front of the other. One step at a time.

Maybe, somehow, I’ll make my way out of this mess.

Following the trail that curves through the park, I exit the greenery and sprint the rest of the way home. Sweat drips down my face as I jog up the steps to my front door.

My heart still races from the run, but it’s not just from exertion — it’s also from the pressure of knowing I need to find a way to turn my career around. I fumble with my keys and step inside, shutting out the world for a moment.

The silence doesn’t last long, though. From inside my shorts pocket, my phone starts ringing.

I pull it out and see it’s my mom calling. Even though I consider not answering, I know I can’t follow through, so I hit the green button.

“Hey, Mom.” I lean against the wall and wipe sweat from my brow. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just checking in on you.” Her tone is gentle, but I can hear the concern behind her words.

“Everything’s fine,” I lie. “Just got back from a run.”

“Good, good. It’s good that you’re keeping up with your training. But how are you really doing, Charlie?”

Of course she’s refusing to accept my dismissal. And that’s why I love her — she doesn’t let me off the hook so easily.

“Really, I’m just… trying to figure things out.” Walking into the living room, I sink onto the couch. “I need to get back out there if I’m gonna save my career.”

“Maybe you should come home for a while. You know, get away from all this.”

The idea of going back to Milwaukee sounds tempting, but I can’t afford to lose any more time.

“Thanks, Mom, but I can’t drop the ball now.” I pause, considering my next words carefully. “I appreciate your support, though.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll always be here for you.” There’s a brief silence before she continues. “You know, after your father left, I never thought we’d make it through, but we did. We stuck together and made a life for ourselves.”

“Mom.” I sigh, feeling the sting of old wounds. “You don’t have to bring him up.”

“I just wanted to remind you that we’ve been through tough times before, and we’ll get through this too,” she says softly.

Her words do little to ease my anxiety, but the sentiment is comforting.

“Thanks, Mom.” I manage a small smile.

Inside, though, it’s more complicated. I’m feeling both grateful for her support and frustrated by the memories of my father’s abandonment. It’s hard not to feel like history is repeating itself; once again, I’m fighting an uphill battle to prove my worth.

Her voice takes on a brighter tone. “You know what? There’s this lovely young lady who just moved into our neighborhood. I think you should meet her.”

“Mom, not this again,” I groan. She’s constantly trying to set me up, and I’ve managed to dodge her attempts every time.

“Come on, Charlie. She’s smart, funny, and kind-hearted. What do you have to lose?”

I’m sure this girl is nice, but I can’t help remembering the sour marriage between my mom and my dad. The thought of settling down with someone scares me. I’d rather date for fun, never committing to anything serious.

“Thanks, but I’m really not interested right now, Mom,” I say, hoping she’ll drop it. “Besides, I need to focus on getting my career back on track.”

My phone buzzes in my hand, signaling another incoming call. Glancing at the caller ID, I see it’s Abernathy Athletes. A surge of hope courses through me, and I hurry to end the conversation with my mom.

“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. I just got another call. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

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