Page 64 of Delay of Game

Zach actually felt deranged, like he was having an out-of-body experience and someone else was speaking through his mouth. “It was my first real relationship and I thought things were going well, and I was putting in the effort, it was, like, a fuckin’ romance, dude, it was...it was so fucking good and then I, uh, I said something kind of stupid like a joke, and he definitely doesn’t feel the same way. And now I’m gonna—not just dating, I’m gonna lose, I’m gonna loseeverything...”

“You’resure? That he doesn’t?”

“Mike, this is n-o-o-t helping.”

“I’m sorry, I just...oh, fuck it, c’mere, buddy.”

And that was how Zach found himself wrapped in Mike’s wiry arms in what was, at first, an extremely awkward hug. Then Mike relaxed, and it was really nice to just have someone care enough to do that for him. That just made it worse because he thought about all of the times Nate had comforted him when he’d fucked something up, and he got choked up again. Jesus fucking Christ, thank god he hadn’t had anything to drink. He could only imagine how he would have been acting. This was bad enough, and he was just delirious from grief and dehydration.

“Uh, first of all, this is like...normal. Kind of,” Mike said carefully. “To feel like this, I mean.”

“I neverhadfeelings!” Zach wailed into his collarbone tattoos. “I mean, I never had bad feelings. Like this. It feels worse than getting traded from Montreal did, and I went on a, a, fucking two-week-long bender.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Mike said, again, faintly. “Well, I’m glad you came here instead.”

“I just...fuck, Mike, I have to go back to...”

Mike disentangled Zach’s arms with uncharacteristic gentleness. “I don’t have any magic words for you, dude. It’s gonna hurt, and it’s gonna be really fucking bad. Probably for a while. And if this is what I thought it was then...it’s not gonna be easy to get over. But you gotta do it, because we can’t fuck this season up, man.”

Zach laughed, although it was a choking kind of sob. “Super comforting, dude. Man. Thanks a lot.”

Mike smiled at him for the briefest second. So fast you’d think you imagined it. “I’m trying my best. I mean, buddy, you came tometo comfort you? The fuck’s wrong with you?”

Zach was laughing again, half-hysterical, half-exhausted. “Do you want the short list or the long list?” Mike patted him wordlessly on the shoulder, and Zach realized something he often forgot their first year on the team together, which was that Mike was actually a couple years older than he was. “I didn’t want you to comfort me, I just thought maybe...you’re an adult now, man, you’ve got your shit together, like, you’re practically fucking married...”

“It was a rhetorical fuckin’ question, bro,” Mike mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Look at you,” Zach hiccupped, “fucking college boy, pulling out your fancy college terms.”

Mike dug his knuckles into Zach’s head, and Zach didn’t even fight back. “Iamsorry, you know.”

“Yeah,” Zach said, and his voice sounded small and pitiful even to his ears, “I am too.”

“C’mon. Tomorrow’s another day. Eat something, drink some water, and sleep it off. You can stay as long as you want.”

“Mike...thanks. Like...seriously, thank you.”

“Fuck off,” Mike said, refusing to meet his eyes. He slid back down into his own seat. “Let me know when you’re done. I’m gonna work while you eat.”

The sound of Mike typing at a steady pace lulled him into a calm almost as much as the dinner did. The food was really good, but by the time he was finished, Zach was so tired he almost fell asleep at the table. He let Mike lead him upstairs, and fell onto the guest bed, still fully clothed. When the orange cat nudged the door open and cuddled up next to him, he didn’t even bother pushing it away.

He fell asleep like that, pulled into the dark by the sound of the low bass rumble of Garcia’s voice the next room over.

Zach woke up feeling almost hungover, except he hadn’t had anything to drink.

His phone said 9:55 a.m. and he said,“Shit.”He almost never slept in this late, even on the team’s off days. He had four missed calls from Nate to go with the text messages and finally looked at them. The first few were close together, then spaced out over the rest of the night.

Hey, where are you?

Your truck’s gone.

Are you ok?

Zach?

Buddy?

The last text, sent at three in the morning, said,Seriously, Zach, I’m really worried. What’s going on? Please tell me?

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