Page 174 of Let the Game Begin
How was a person supposed to feel something they couldn’t even define?
It was all too abstract to me. I needed realistic, concrete things. I left the illusions to people who were afraid of ending up alone. People who needed to cling to someone else so they could project their fantasy of love upon them.
Yeah, a fantasy.
Because love was nothing but an idea. The invention of some human who couldn’t accept a solitary existence and insisted on finding someone with whom they could share their life.
But loneliness didn’t scare me.
I had grown up without love, and I’d survived up until this point, so I didn’t feel the need for it now.
It was just me and the Boy for now.
***
“How’d it go?” Chloe and I walked out to the car after her session with Dr. Lively. My sister seemed peaceful, and that made me feel relieved.
“Good. Carter is slowly fading from in here.” She tapped her index finger against her temple, and I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to me.
“He’s going to disappear completely. We’ll lock him in a drawer and throw away the key.” I kissed her forehead, breathing in the pleasant scent of her, and we got into the car. I thought then about how my psychiatrist had once explained memory to me. It was the brain’s information storage system. The mind processed information gleaned from experiences or sensations in the form of memories. If those memories were particularly traumatic, one could learn how to lock them up in drawers or “cerebral containers” where they couldn’t impair one’s cognition. If that was what she was doing, Chloe was on the right track, and she was going to pull out of it. She would overcome the trauma Carter inflicted upon her and learn to smile again like any other girl her age.
“I’m hungry as a bear,” my sister said as soon as we got home before hurrying into the kitchen. I heard her calling Anna’s name, asking if she had prepared anything Chloe could eat. I, on the other hand, walked across the living room, intending to go upstairs and take another shower, but something blocked my way.
Logan was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, one crutch next to him, the other lying on the floor. I rushed over to him, alarmed, as he struggled in vain to get up on his own.
“Logan.” His cheeks were damp and his head hung down as he stared blankly at the broken leg stretched out before him. How long had he been sitting there? What had happened to him?
I knelt in front of him on the marble floor and looked into his face, trying to figure out how he was doing.
“I…I can’t deal with this anymore.” Logan put his head in his hands and sighed miserably.
“With the crutches? Is your leg hurting? Tell me.” I sat down next to him. It was then that I noticed the childish expression on his face. It was the same one he wore when he was little and he couldn’t figure out how to properly brush his teeth on his own. Or tie his shoes. Or find two socks of the same color to wear. Logan had been a determined kid who always wanted to do everything himself, and he had always been a perfectionist. No matter what he did, he wanted to do it better.
“With everything. I can’t go to class. I can’t get out of the house. The meds the doctors have me on keep me so doped up that I just lie around all day like a stoner. And I can’t even go up the stairs because, every time I do, I could fall. I can’t do fucking anything, and I feel so useless,” he admitted in a burst of frustration. I hugged him automatically, just like when we were kids and I found him hiding under his bed, waiting for me to return after “playing” with Kimberly.
Logan rested his head against my chest, just like he used to do back then, and I patted his shoulder because he wasn’t going to face all of this by himself. I was going to be right there with him. We were going to do it together.
“I know it’s really difficult, and I can see how demoralizing the immobility is for you, but you’re strong, Logan. You’ve already gotten through the worst part, now you just have to be patient.” I smiled at him, but he turned away from me, staring at nothing in particular as his shoulders continued to shake with sobs. “Don’t call yourself useless. You have no idea how important you are to me. I was so afraid of losing you; I think I died during those twelve hours you spent in a coma, and now that you’ve come back to life…that brings me to life, too.” I told him sincerely, and his hazel eyes finally lifted to look into mine.
It was right there, in my brother’s eyes and in Chloe’s: the truest form of love that existed in this world.
“Come on, let’s order a pizza and watch an action movie with a lot of gunfights and hot, half-naked chicks giving lap dances.” I put my arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. He was tall and heavy, but I managed to support him the whole way to the sofa in the living room.
“The ones where they wear the star-shaped nipple pasties?” he asked slyly, and I shook my head, glad to see that the pup was getting over this crisis. Surely it was only one of many he’d face during his long convalescence.
And I’d be right there next to him.
Always.
“The ones with the star-shaped nipple pasties,” I confirmed, grinning at him.
***
A few hours later, Logan had finally calmed down and seemed to have completely moved past his momentary breakdown.
In the end, I knew where he was coming from.
Dealing with the trauma of an accident like his wasn’t remotely easy, but he was a capable guy. He would come out of this stronger than before. We were lounging on the sofa together watchingMiami Vicewhen our tranquil moment was interrupted by a call from Xavier.
