Page 5 of A Game as Old as Time

Hailey froze, a piece of lettuce hanging from her fork as she sized up an answer.

“I guess as excited as I can be for my first day of senior year at a brand-new school all the way across the country without any friends.”

Her father inhaled deeply, peering down at his plate.

Stupid Hailey!

Melissa had already dropped her fork and was staring at the blank wall in front of her.

Of all the things to say!

She knew better than to be sarcastic right now.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice echoed in the quiet, empty room. “I didn’t…I just…I mean, yeah, I think I have everything I need.”

She stared sheepishly at the scarred surface of the wooden dinner table. They reverted to silence once more until her sister abruptly stood.

“Done already, Melissa?” Her father’s voice did not match the smile onhis face.

“Just wasn’t very hungry tonight, Dad.” She was already well on her way to the living room.

Same.

Hailey took a few more bites before making her way over to the sink. Her father remained seated, his disappointment palpable.

I hate this.

She had always loved speaking to her father, and when she was younger, she had admired how hard he worked to raise his two girls. However, for the last few years, he had struggled to find answers. His face was endlessly stuck in a look of confusion and anxiety. The losses their family had suffered, along with everything that had occurred after, had left a black cloud over them all. That image, which gave rise to a rotating hole in her stomach, had Hailey swiftly finishing at the sink in hopes of avoiding any more talk. Her father stood.

“Baby girl,” he said, coming close and grabbing her hands before she could get away. “I know this is not easy for you.”

I do not want to do this now.

She could not help but look up. His soft hazel eyes were weary and lost, making her stomach turn more violently.

“But I need you to be strong, please.” His gaze was imploring as he motioned toward the living room. “I need you to be strong for your sister and…and for me.”

I know.

She squeezed his dry, callused hands.

“Don’t worry, Coach,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be tough. I know the drill.”

She wouldn’t be able to hold it together if she stayed any longer. Hailey stepped out of the kitchen, taking one more look at her sister as she made her way to the stairs. Her eyes began to shift around the living room. The sight of unpacked boxes made her lower her head as she gripped the railing tight.

This is not home.

Hailey hated this new house, hated the old carpets and outdated kitchen backsplash by the sink. She hated the tiny backyard and the entire colonial-style layout around her.

This will never be home.

She missed California. She missed her friends. She missed her mother.

As Hailey climbed the stairs, she glanced back at her father. He stood by the sink, slightly hunched over as the water continued to run in front of him. The South Mountain High polo shirt he wore was drenched with sweat stains and stuck to his stomach. “Coach Bianchi” was emblazoned across the left side of his bulky chest.

I hope this was all worth it.

He began to turn, but Hailey was already in motion, jumping up the rest of the steps toward her room before he could say another word to her.

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