Page 45 of Finding Delaware

When I don’t immediately speak because my brain is soup these days thanks to the new meds, my dad smacks a hand proudly against my shoulder.

“Tell him about the scholarship, Huck.” I can see the worry in his eyes, but fuck if I can do anything to take it away other than pull my lips into what I hope is a convincing smile.

“I accepted a scholarship to UofU.” There’s no emotion in my tone, so I try to force it. “I’ll be playing for the Utes in the fall.”

Dad’s smile falters, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice. He nods, laughing and congratulating me before asking if I’ll be playing with any of my high school teammates.

“Matthew Albrecht, I think.”

Not everyone qualified for a scholarship, and not everyone on the team is attending college. Most of them will graduate and get jobs here in town. Settle down, marry, and have eight kids. Something I’m sure my dad wishes for me.

Hate to disappoint you, pops.

Dad and Joel begin conversing about college football brackets, and I try to stay present, but it’s hard. Everything feels fuzzy most days. The doctor had said to give this shit time to work, for my body to acclimate, but I’m tired of feeling like I’m moving through mud.

Logan’s eyes scan my face, watching me with that concerned look he’s had since I broke down and begged him todrive me out to the city two months ago. I was desperate, hadn’t slept in nearly a week, and on the verge of delirium. Since I currently have no car, I had no choice. I had to ask him to take me to my doctor because the anxiety and insomnia felt like they were killing me. And the guilt. So much fucking guilt. Two different failed medications later, and this is the result.

“You okay?” He asks quietly for the hundredth time this morning; all I can do is nod.

I’m not really, but I’m notbad, either. Not only does this stuff tamp down the anxiety, but everything else, too. I haven’t decided if I like it. The last medication I tried didn’t make me feel this numb, but the nightmares from it were brutal. Dreams of Taylor’s body mutilated and twisted from the crash, his rotting corpse holding me under water…

Yeah, it’s been a fucked up few months since he left.

“Got one!” Dad grabs his pole and yanks it back, reeling in the line. Logan and Joel are on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what he pulls out of the water. He struggles with it for a moment before a large brown trout breaks the surface, mouth impaled on his hook, and all three of them seem giddy with excitement.

Used to be something I got excited about, too. But now I don’t even know anymore.

“You see, son?” Dad holds up the fish with a grin, and I can see behind his glasses that his eyes are searching for something, expecting a reaction from the Huck that would have been buzzing and offering to take a goofy picture for social media. But I feel like that guy drowned in a pool in December, so I nod and smile, flashing him a thumbs-up. If I could feel anything, the disappointment that flashes acrosshis face would have gutted me more than the trout is about to become.

I can’t be everything he wants me to be.

Even Royce has started noticing the difference in me. We started officially dating—albeit secretly because even though he finally came out to his family and his school, I never will. I haven’t felt up to seeing him lately. Something he said back in February struck a chord with me, made me realize how fucked up everything really is.

Some people have a hard time giving up control. It can be scary, letting someone have all that power over you.

I never have control. Never have a choice. I’m trapped in this pit of expectations Dad holds for me, and it feels like I’ll never escape. He’s even over there talking like I’ll be living at home while going to college, and I can’t find it in me to tell him no. He’s done so much for me already; all I do is disappoint him. Tack on the way Taylor used me for his own curiosity, made me feel like maybe something was there between us, and then took away my only form of freedom by crashing it into a tree…

I didn’t even visit him in the fucking hospital. Because I couldn’t bring myself to look at him after what he did.

Dad, Joel, and Logan continue to fish and bullshit for a few more hours. I interject when I can. Finally, Joel decides to call it a day, and we all load everything into both cars.

“Well,” Dad says once everything is packed up, “Joel and I want to hit the range and shoot a couple of clay pigeons while the wives are busy doing their own thing. You boyswant to come?”

I really don’t. The thought of being around a gun in this state of mind makes me nervous, not for everyone else’s safety but my own. Logan must sense it, too, because he tells our dads that he’ll drop me off at home and meet them there.

“Thank you,” I say to him as we’re buckling ourselves into his dad’s Range Rover, and his honey eyes glance at me sideways.

“I’m worried about you, Huck.”

We pull away from the lake just as a line of cars pass to get in, likely for a day of BBQing and swimming if it warms up.

“I know.”

“Look, I know that Taylor’s accident was hard on you. But I just don’t understand why. You haven’t even talked to him.”

I sigh because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation since he took me to see my doctor. I’ve shut him down the last two times he’s tried talking with me about it.

Logan continues as we pull onto the main road. “I mean, he was always an asshole, right? He made school terrible for you. Stealing your car and wrecking it was honestly the most Taylor thing he could have done.”

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