He isn’t even looking at the screen anymore.
The glow from the TV flickers across his face, turning his expression into a mix of curiosity and mischief.
“Please tell me who the girl is,” Matt says for what feels like the millionth time.
I mash the controller buttons harder than necessary. “Matt, I’ve told you already. A thousand times. I can’t.”
“But why?” His voice has that stubborn edge, the one that means he isn’t going to let it go.
I sigh and mute the game.
“Because it’s not only me that this information will affect.”
We aren’t really playing anymore — at least, I am not.
I’m just sitting there, staring at the screen, my brain miles away.
Matt has been circling this topic all night, like a shark smelling blood.
“But I don’t even know her.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I say, flicking off the TV.
The room immediately becomes darker. “I’d still feel terrible.”
“Hey!” Matt groans as the screen goes black.
“You weren’t even focusing,” I point out.
He throws his arms up. “Please just tell me.”
“No.”
“You’re so annoying. What if I helped?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Matt, there is no way you could ever help me with this. Not in any universe.”
Ironic I’m saying this when the message was originally for him.
His mouth falls open. “That’s so mean.”
“I love you, man, but no.”
“Fine.” He gets up and goes to his room.
But I know this isn’t the end.
Matt doesn’t quit.
I toss my controller aside and lie back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
The glow from the hallway light slips in under the door, a thin slice of yellow against the dark.
It’s close to midnight, and my whole body feels heavy with exhaustion.
But sleep won’t come.
It never does when my head is like this.
