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She laughs. “I should have known that was why. Yes!” Olivia passes me, bumps into me, and spins in circles as she crosses the finish line first.
“I got a referral. Go Friday.” I don’t want to talk about it anymore. “Did you have a good day? Good studying session?” The moment I say it, I wish I hadn’t. Not because she was studying with some guy, but because that guy was a football player. My guts twist as if someone just stabbed me in the stomach and turned the knife.
“Yeah, I did.”
Three words and I’m jealous of her. I want a good day too. But I can’t flip a switch and make it happen. It’s not that easy, or I’d flip it in a heartbeat.
“What time is your appointment Friday? Do you want me to go with you?”
“Nine in the morning, and no.”
“Okay, just thought I’d offer. Hey, what are you going to school for?”
What does that have to do with anything? “Political science.”
She laughs. “Really?” I nod. “Wouldn’t have guessed that.”
Before I can think about what I’m saying, I ask, “What would you have guessed?”
“Something where you could still be around football.”
I tense. No. If my muscles freeze, my stomach turns, and my head wants to explode just from the word, how am I supposed to be around it again? I can’t play. Why be around the game and settle for second best? I don’t want that.
Olivia bumps into my car, making me spin out of control, and keeps on going. Even through our talking, she’s determined to win. She leans her head on my shoulder while I debate if I will comment on that or not.
“Relax, Corey. You’re too uptight all the time. I’m starting to kick your ass. See?” Olivia’s car crosses the finish line by a good margin before mine does.
“Two out of four doesn’t equal kicking my ass. It means we’re even.”
“Then let’s make it three out of five. It’ll put me in the lead.”
For the last race, I let her win. I don’t even try because I want her to beat me. The grin on her face that shows off her victory and throws it back in my face is worth it.
“There. I officially kicked your ass and now I’m hungry.” She turns off the game and TV, puts the controllers up, and I stand, about to go home. “Are you hungry? I’m in the mood for fries. Want to go with me to get some?”
Go with her or escape to my apartment? The day has been long enough and I just want to lie down. The weariness floods every bone in my body, anchoring me down even more when I realize I have to go to work tomorrow.
“No, I’m good. Thanks for offering, though.”
She looks a little disappointed, but I ignore it. “Okay.” Olivia walks me to the door. “See you later then.”
“Maybe I’ll do yoga with you tomorrow,” I say as I walk across the hall and open my door before turning to look at her. She’s smiling.
“Sounds good. And Corey?”
“Yeah?”
“Good job on making the appointment, and thanks for talking to me.”
I nod before disappearing inside my apartment. It feels ridiculous she would say such a thing about something that seems normal and easy for most people, but at the same time, it feels good that she’s giving me a virtual pat on the back. After a quick shower, I climb into bed and let sleep take over while it’s willing.
IF I THOUGHT I was on edge the past few days, I’ve been shoved off it today. This is what it must feel like to slowly lose your mind. Bits and pieces vanishing until there’s nothing left but an empty skull. I survived another night of yoga and video games with Olivia. I survived work, and I’ve just sat down across from a psychiatrist. Olivia somehow knew today was going to be one of those days where it’s hard to even sit up in bed.
She barged into my room and when I made no effort to get up, she started to tug me out of bed. There’s some strength in her, that’s for sure. It pissed me off, but here I am anyway. Deep down, I know this is where I need to be, where I want to be, but today is not the fucking day to do it.
The psychiatrist, Dr. Stewart, starts asking questions I’m in no mood to answer. What’s been going on? How have I been feeling? When did it start? How long has it been this bad? Why do I think it’s this bad? What’s my mental health history? I give him the shortest answers possible, just enough information to get to the next step.
“Do you have a support system, Corey?”
