Page 1 of Game Changer
One
Ethan
It used to be that when I looked in the mirror, all I saw was a failure.
Someone insecure.
Someone afraid of the unknown.
Someone with no goals. No aspirations. Nomotivationbecause anxiety suffocated them like a thick piece of barbed wire wrapped around their throat.
It started in high school when I joined varsity football with my best friend, Cameron. I was talented but Cameron was better, and before each game, I’d think of all the plays I’d inevitably fuck up, disappointing the hundreds of people on the bleachers. That would lead to me sneaking off to the locker room to hang my head between my knees with my throat feeling like it was closing and my heart racing a million beats per minute.
Now, seven years later, anxiety has become an old friend—one that only comes around once in a while to remind me that even if I think we’re growing apart, it’ll never truly leave. But it’s the start of my junior year in college, and I’m determined to makesomethingof myself no matter how daunting the task may seem.
After community college, I decided to take a gap year, start over somewhere new, and create a fresh beginning for myself here at State. What else was I supposed to do after my extracurriculars were out of the way and I still had no clue what I wanted to do with my life? Cameron is starting his senior year now, basically a shoo-in for the NFL when he graduates, and my little sister, Maddie, is a sophomore studying to become a fuckingdoctor. And I’m . . . well, I’m unpacking boxes in my new dorm room with a knot in my stomach and clammy hands because I can’t help wondering what the hell I’m doing here.
Attending Arizona State University seemed like the right thing at first. Continuing my education was a logical move, but now that I’m here, the mind that’s supposed to propel me forward is doing the opposite.
Do you actually think you can graduate?
Why would you succeed at this when you’ve royally sucked at everything else?
You lost your virginity to the girl of your dreams, and she still didn’t want to date you.
You’re a loser.
A weak, spineless—
No. I refuse to fall back into that mindset when I’ve worked so hard over the past year to change my perspective. I’m taking medication now. I’ve gone through countless counseling sessions to create a better mental space, and this is the year I’ll find my life’s purpose. I’m making it my mission to accomplish that, and thinking negatively won’t help.
“Are you Ethan?”
Lifting my eyes from the box I’ve been staring into for the past ten minutes, I see a tall, lanky guy about my age poking his head around the plastic bin he’s holding. He’s got a goofy smile on his face and he’s wearing braces, which makes me smile back because it reminds me of Cameron when he was younger.
“Yeah, man. And I’m assuming you’re Leonardo?”
He cringes. “Leo. Just Leo. Leonardo makes me seem like even more of a nerd than I already am.” Setting the bin on the twin bed across from mine, he adds, “Hope you’re okay withStar Warsposters, because those babies are packed in here.” He pats the bin for emphasis.
I shrug and reach into my box to pull out a stack of video games. “So long as you’re okay with me having these.”
“Dude. Is that the newCowboy Slayerthat came out last month?” His bin is forgotten as he closes the distance between us to look at the other titles in my hands. “Oh, we’re going to begreatroommates.”
The knot in my stomach loosens slightly.
At least one thing worked out in my favor today.
Leo is talkative as hell while we unpack the rest of our things. He reveals that he’s part of the AV club here, which fits the bill given his button-up polo with outlines of various radios and laptops on it. Black-rimmed glasses stand out starkly against his pale, freckled skin. He’s quirky, but at least we’re into the same things.
Leo rambles on about his love for anime while I send a quick text to my parents to let them know I’m settled in. They wanted to help, but I preferred they didn’t. I love my parents, but they can be overdramatic about these kinds of things. My mom is the type who’d bake a batch of cookies and deliver them to everyone on the floor, and my dad would tell embarrassing childhood stories about me to my new roommate.
It’s not until I’m putting the sheets on my mattress that I hear a familiar throaty laugh. It’s a sound I’ve memorized by heart. A laugh that no matter how hard I’ve tried to forget over the past five months, I just can’t. The way it sounded pressed against my ear, and the little gasps that followed. Those sounds have haunted me every night since the best one of my life, and I’m still wondering why everything fell apart so damn quickly afterward.
I know, without a shadow of a doubt, who is about to pass by my wide-open door.
Maya Garcia, the woman of my dreams, saunters down the hallway with three other girls glued to her side. Those honey-brown eyes lock on mine, and she freezes on the spot, one of the girls running into her back at the abruptness. Her full, pink lips pop open in surprise before she swallows thickly and says to the girls, “I’ll catch up with you guys in a few, okay?”
They scurry off giggling when I join her in the hallway, shutting the door and leaving a confused Leo behind.
