Page 117 of Untouchable Player

When I open my eyes, Mom is sitting by the bed and Sam is playing on a Nintendo in the corner of the room. I can hear the little bleeping sounds of aMario Brosgame.

“Turn that down Samantha, you’re going to wake your brother up.”

“It’s okay, I’m awake.”

Sam closes the Nintendo and comes to sit on the bed, “how you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Your face still looks like a butt.”

“Sam,” Mom shakes her head, “what is wrong with you?”

I laugh and ruffle her hair.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s gone to get some sandwiches.”

“Mom, you should go home, I’m fine.”

“We’ll go soon, you just rest.”

Sam swings her legs off the bed and looks down at her sneakers, “sorry you won’t get to play at Madison Sq.”

My heart sinks. Fuck. Of course I won’t.

I force a smile, “it doesn’t matter.”

“He’ll play Madison Sq when he’s in the NHL.”

Dad stands in the doorway, arms loaded with pre-packed sandwiches.

If my heart could sink any lower, it would.

“Jesse, chicken or tuna?”

I love how my only options are high-protein ones.

“Definitely not tuna. I might be able to eat some of the chicken.”

“You need to get your strength up,” he says as he tosses me the sandwich.

Mom volunteers to have the tuna and I hope she actually wants it and isn’t just eating it to appease everybody.

We mostly eat in silence and I’m surprised to find myself actually hungry after all that puking. I feel like a prune that’s had all the juice squeezed out of it. But my stomach feels the size of a pea and I’m stuffed from one tiny sandwich.

When everyone’s finished eating, I ask if I can speak to Dad alone.

Mom shoos Sam out of the room and closes the door.

“What’s wrong?”

I can see he thinks I’m going to talk about Nate, and though we do definitely need to talk about that, there’s something more immediate I need to say, something I should have said a long time ago.

“I’m not playing hockey next year Dad.”

“What do you mean?”

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