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The door creaks and Cody steps outside. “Hey, little brother.”
“Hey.”
“Can we talk?” When I don’t respond he continues. “You ever going to quit being pissed at me, man?”
He asks as if it’s that simple. As if what he did to me was just a minor incident, nothing important when, in reality, he tore my world apart.
“You want to talk? Fine. Tell me why you did it. If you were fucked-up, why didn’t you just tell me so I could get us an Uber?”
That’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? Him lying to me. Lexie lying to me. The people I’m supposed to love and trust—lying to me. Each of their lies managed to fuck up my life in one way or another.
I rise to my feet.
“If you would have just been upfront with me, I wouldn’t be in this fucking sling, and my season wouldn’t be over. Everything I’m going through, it’s all because you made a stupid fucking choice.”
“Exactly. I fucked up. I always fuck up. I’ve also apologized for it more times than I can count. What the hell do you want me to say?”
It’s the part that he doesn’t seem to be able to grasp. What happened, happened. There’s no going back and fixing it. I’m not asking for that.
I lower my voice. “Say you’ll get help. We can’t go back, we can’t fix it, but we can move forward. If having my brother back meant I had to spend the rest of my life in this sling, I would be okay with that.” It’s a tall statement to make, yet every word is the truth.
Regardless of how much I love the game and the fact that I get to play it, nothing compares to the love and adoration I’ve felt for Cody my entire life. Family first. Luke. Cody. I would give it all up in a heartbeat if it could fix them.
“I don’t need help.” He turns away from so I can’t look into his eyes, so I won’t see that he’s fucked-up as we speak. My parents may not be able to tell, but I sure as hell can.
“Really? Because it looks like you’re pretty fucked-up right now.”
“Sorry we can’t all be perfect like you.”
It’s not the first time he’s made that comment. It started as a joke, or at least I think it did, but it’s become an unrelenting, unwarranted dig. I sure as hell am not perfect, nor have I ever pretended to be.
The difference between Cody and me is instead of giving up when I fail, I try again. He failed, and rather than accept my help and work harder, he turned to drugs. He made that his career, not me. Now, he resents my success, that I made it pro, and he didn’t. He acts like it was all just handed to me, that everyone helped me succeed and wanted him to fail. None of which could be further from the truth.
“Oh, give it a rest already, Cody. I’m not fucking perfect, never claimed to be. So quit blaming all your fucking problems on me. I never made you use, never made you give up football. Those were your choices.”
“Maybe not directly, but how was I supposed to compete with you, huh? Mr. Fucking Wonderful.”
“You can’t be serious. This was never a competition. You’re my big brother. All I ever wanted to do was be like you.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit, man. I wanted you out there with me. Us, playing together was all I ever dreamed about.” I’m pissed because, for the life of me, I don’t know where the hell he’s getting this stuff. It wasn’t that long ago that we were tight, that he was my best bud. But now? Shit, I don’t know how to get through to him or even if I can. I’ve told him more times than I can count that I’ve got his back and that I’ll do whatever I can to help him and be there for him, but it always turns into this.
He blows off my words, my attempt to fix whatever this shit is between us. It’s not something I ever wanted. I just wanted my brother.
“Think whatever you want, Cody. I’m done. I’m done covering for you. I’m done protecting you. You fuck up again, you deal with it.” As much as it hurts me to say it, there’s no arguing with an addict, and I’m tired of trying.
“Right. Of course. Wouldn’t want to tarnish your pristine reputation. Oh, wait, I already did.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
He remains silent with a cocky grin on his face as I let his words settle over me.
The pieces of the puzzle come together.
The text.
The video.
