Page 55 of The Tryout

I no longer hear the shower running, which is a good sign. In just a few moments, Finn opens the door. He’s wearing a hoodie pulled up over his hair and a pair of ratty sweatpants I’ve never seen before. His eyes are still rimmed in red, but the tears are gone for now.

He follows me back toward the kitchen, stopping when he gets close.

“Jesus, did Mr. Tran have to close for the night?”

I look at him, questioningly.

“I mean, you’ve got all his food, don’t you?”

I chuckle a little, and so does he. He grabs the Pho and a full order of spring rolls – and I let him, happy to take whatever’s left. He eats on the couch, feet curled up under him, staring into space.

“You should head out to O’Keefe’s. I’m not gonna be good company tonight.”

Well, that’s certainly not happening.

“Nah, I’m good where I am.”

Several more minutes of silence pass. He doesn’t so much as look at his phone, and neither do I, hoping to be available when he decides to say more.

“How did you deal with the disappointment of it all, Ave? Just the day in, day out drag of not being…enough?”

Ouch.

I wish I could say I hadn’t felt that way, but the reality is I spent most of two years feeling that way.

“Well, you’re not at O’Keefe’s getting shitfaced, so you’re handling it better than Young Avery did.”

He snorts.

“Dude, you’re still young. You’re, what, twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four. Glad I’m not losing my looks.” I wink at him, absolutely intending to see the blush rise up his cheeks.

“I don’t drink. I mean, yes, I’m twenty, but that’s not it. My mom… I don’t ever plan on drinking.”

I nod, trying not to press for more.

“Honestly, good idea. It can sure dull the pain…but it can dull the good shit, too, you know?”

I had never really talked with anyone about that dark period after my injury, not like this.

“It…it made it too easy to avoid the reality of life. There was always another party or another hookup or another pill to put it off just a little bit longer.”

Deep creases appear between Finn’s eyebrows and I worry I’ve gone too far. Instead, he reaches out his hand, resting it on mine.

“I’m glad you found your way back,” he says, looking me in the eyes.

“Me too.”

We sit there in silence again, but this time it’s more comfortable. Neither of us makes any move to stop touching, if anything drifting closer together.

“You know, Jamie already texted, asking me to tell you he thinks it should be you.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to make things better. And why should it? Apparently everyone in the whole world thinks it should have been Finn…except for the people responsible for actually making the decision.

Eventually, I pick up the remote, choosing some mindless action movie. We watch as the hero begins to investigate the death of his wife in the seedy underbelly of…New York? Chicago? It’s not super clear, to be honest.

“I wish I could just hook up.”