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“The fuck does that mean?”
“It means don’t skin the bear before you catch him.”
I stare at him. He stares at me.
“I don’t know why the fuck I even try—”
“You’re missing the point. What’s my plan B?” he says with a shrug. “Fuck if I know. I’ll figure it out. We know enough guys in the league, and guys who have left the league. There are people who want people like us on their staffs.”
“Doing what?” I ask. “I don’t have a degree. And I don’t want to end up running a used car dealership and screaming into the radio about prices so low they ought to be considered offsides.”
“That’s a terrible joke.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t even make sense.”
“That was the poin—can you stay focused?”
“You think I want that?” He shakes his head and picks at his nose. “There are so many other things we can do that your brilliant Faye can’t even imagine. And that’s what you have to offer. You are different and have the Mini Cooper and you think she’s the most beautiful woman on the earth.”
He levels me with his heavy stare.
“What happened to Freddy is shit. He may recover. He probably won’t be back in the league. He will figure it out. You are not Freddy. You are his friend, and it’s mooseshit that you pity him.”
“I don’t pity him—”
“You do. You’re making his injury about you.”
Is that what I’m doing? Am I really taking out my pity for him on my friend-zoned status with Faye? I’m not injured. I’m still playing. And I just made Faye smile before breakfast on a Saturday morning.
“So, what? I tell her I want more?”
“Nah,” Pasha says. “Show her. Let her put two and four together.”
“Two and four?”
“They get to sex.”
I groan. “I walked right into that one.”
“Yes you did, Goose-man. Now drive me to brunch or lose me forever.”
“Someone needs to monitor how muchTop Gunyou’re streaming,” I say as I drive back toward Faye’s neighborhood with a hungry Russian.
7
faye
Another day,another bit of my soul getting sucked down the drain.
Okay, it’s maybe not so dire as that. But listening to Dr. Tehylor drone on about chronic kidney disease isn’t my favorite way to spend an afternoon. I know I should find this fascinating. Or at least interesting. I’ll be taking step one of my boards soon enough, and this is important. But I can’t focus. I would chalk it up to being an area that just isn’t interesting. But I know better than that.
Lately every class feels like this. A couple months ago, a student in my section with Crohn’s disease got really sick. She had to take a leave of absence. And the crazy thing? I felt jealous. Because she had a valid reason for not continuing.
What is wrong with me?
I dread going to class every day, I dread being called on. I dread doing the reading and the studying. Yes, I find it fascinating, particularly the study of the central nervous system and the brain. But there’s something thick and sour that permeates that fascination, something I can’t put a name to. The only other time I’ve felt something remotely similar is when I was still in prep school, trying to just get by in a world where I never truly belonged.
