Page 126 of The Hat Trick

Brandon is dead.

I can’t help but think back to our last conversation. Everything I said to him. I meant it at the time, of course, but now that he’s actually gone, I don’t know how I feel about it. I knew this was a possibility, I just didn’t know how it would really feel.

“Brent?” my brother calls from the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, I’m here, I just…wow.”

“Yeah, uh, do you want to tell Bailey and Brynn, or should I?”

“No, I will,” I insist, needing to be the one to do it. I don’t want to put anything more on Bryson with this, so I know I need to tell our sisters.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly and neither of us are very emotional people, so I know he doesn’t expect a real answer from me.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s his own decisions that got him to where he is now, right?”

“Yeah.” He’s quiet on the other end of the line. “Do you think we should’ve done more for him? Do you think we could’ve saved him?”

I sigh. I should expect these types of questions. I’m sure Brynn is going to feel some heavy guilt. Bailey is more like me, and I don’t expect her to be overly emotional about this. She’s distanced herself from us as it is, I bet she barely even sees Brandon as her brother anymore either.

“No, I think his addiction took over his life and the only person that could’ve saved him would have been himself.” I mean what I’m saying to him, despite questioning if any of us should have done more, I know you can’t help someone who isn’t going to help themselves.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll talk later.”

We hang up after saying goodbye. I stare at my phone wondering if I should call my sister’s now, they are both sleeping I’m sure, but would they be mad at me if I waited to tell them? I decided to let them enjoy their sleep tonight and I’ll call first thing in the morning.

Unfortunately for me, sleep never finds me and I lie awake the remainder of the night being consumed by the guilt of the last conversation I had with my brother. I couldn’t have saved him, but maybe I was too hard on him. He sold out my personal life for some cash, yes, but drugs make you do desperate and stupid shit. Obviously, it sucks what he did, but that was the last conversation I had with him. The guilt slowly seeps its way into my veins and makes it harder and harder for me to feel like anything I did was worth it.

There’s a feeling that has been festering and feels like it’s taking over. The loss of control. I feel like there’s nothing I can do to help anyone, not my family. Not my teammates. Not Chandler. Not myself. It’s all out of my control and I have no idea how to get it back.

The next morning, I do my best to remain neutral as I tell my sisters the news. Brynn is much more emotional about it than Bailey, which I assumed would happen. I do my best to comfort Brynn as she cries over the phone and eventually, she says she just wants to go and I have to get to practice and we hang up.

Everything is a blur to me. I’m both numb and feel like my mind has too much going on. This happens when I feel out of control like this, when I don’t have an outlet to get my head on straight. To find some semblance of control.

I’m sure other guys have noticed I’m off, but no one said anything to me. When I get home, I do everything I can to try to make myself feel better. Clean, work out, repeat. Nothing helps.

Briefly, I think about contacting Chandler. That was always a way I could feel in control, to be with a woman. The domination, the control of her body and her orgasms. But the desire for that with anyone who isn’t Chandler is nonexistent. I can’t bring myself to talk to her because I know I’m still not good enough for her. My life is a mess. I’m a mess. I’m not good enough. Not for her.

* * *

It’sthe beginning of March. It’s almost a month since Chandler asked for time from us, and it’s been a couple weeks since Brandon died. We didn’t have a funeral for him, and I took care of everything involving a burial for him. I’ve been moving on autopilot and haven’t felt better about anything. The only positive is that our team is close to clinching a playoff spot.

We just got back from another away game and as I’m walking toward my car Dumont stops me.

“Collee, what’s up man?” It’s the most he’s spoken to me since everything imploded.

“Just wanting to go home and go to sleep,” I tell him.

“Something is up with you. I haven’t wanted to say anything, but I can’t see you like this anymore.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, you are here, but you aren’t really.”

I run my hand through my hair that is unkempt and definitely needs a haircut. “I’ve had some family shit going on, I just want to head home.”

“Look, I get you don’t want to tell me, but would you tell her?” he asks, hopeful.

I look at him completely perplexed. This is the first time we’ve said more than three words to each other and it’s definitely the first time Chandler has been somewhat mentioned between us.

---