The Game Changer The Final Score - By L.M. Trio Page 0,17

the last couple of years, doesn’t give you the right to treat everyone like shit. If you even have to ask me that, then fuck you! Honestly, I’m sick of your bullshit! Everyone’s been walkin’ on eggshells around you since you’ve been home. You’ve got your mom and your sister’s stomachs in knots; they don’t know what the hell to say to you, always afraid to upset you! Stop feelin’ fuckin’ sorry for yourself and get on with your life! You’re fuckin’ twenty-one-years-old. You still have your whole life ahead of you!” he shouts, pointing his finger in my face, bumping my shoulder as he storms past me.

I lean back against the blue Ford pick-up at the end of our street and lower my head. I’m already regretting what I’ve implied. We’ve never argued like that before. I stay awhile longer, embarrassed to face everyone at home. When I finally get the nerve to go inside, my mom is in the kitchen, standing by the door.

“What happened?” she asks nervously.

“Nothing,” I answer, hanging my head low as I head for the steps, taking two at a time. I lay on my bed, feeling like a complete jerk-off as I mull over the last couple of months in my head.

What is wrong with me? He’s right. I’ve barely talked with anyone since I’ve been home. I mean, really talk. It’s all been superficial bullshit. Anytime anyone tries to ask anything of importance, I clam up and head to my room.

After awhile I make my way downstairs, wanting to apologize. “Where’d Mikey go?” I ask my mom sheepishly while she pretends to be immersed in a re-run of CSI on TV.

“He went for a walk with Deanna,” she replies.

***

(Mikey)

As we stroll along the water, there is a slight breeze rolling off the ocean, cooling the air just a bit as Deanna tries to keep up with my brisk strides. The steam coming from my body has nothing to do with the heat.

“Can you believe that shit?” I ask, referring to Luke’s accusation.

“Why would he say that? What is wrong with him?” she asks with her voice full of angst as she keeps a slight jog to keep up with me.

“He’s fuckin’ nuts! That’s what’s wrong with him. He’s lost it,” I answer, full of hostility.

“God, Mikey, don’t say that,” She chastises, fearing it may be true. “What can we do? I don’t even know what to say to him anymore.”

I hear her voice quiver and I glance down at her beautiful, chestnut, misted eyes. My heart softens when I see her face, and I stop in my tracks to pull her into my arms, holding her tightly. I know it frightens her, thinking we’ll never have the same Luke we know back again. It kills me watching her be this upset. I want to take all of that away from her.

“He’s gonna be fine,” I say, holding her close while rubbing her back. “Maybe it’s a good thing he got that off his chest. At least he showed some type of emotion. It’s better than him walkin’ around acting as if he doesn’t give a shit about anything,” I offer, trying to reassure her.

I wrap her small, soft hand in mine and she holds onto it tightly. We begin to walk again, this time at a more relaxed pace.

“You know what? I think you’re right. What should we do?” she asks diligently after thinking it over for a few minutes.

“Nothing. Let him work through it. We can only just be there for him when he’s ready to talk,” I answer, happy to hear her enthusiasm.

“Are you two going to be alright?” she asks, looking up at me curiously.

“DeDe, c’mon. Do you really think I’d let somethin’ like that come between us? Big deal, he flipped out. It’s about time. He’s usually so damn low-key. I’m over it already.” I give her a wink and a smile.

I can sense her body calming itself down as she interlocks her arm with mine and holds on tightly while we make our way back to the house. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do to make things better for her. I want her to always be able to depend on me. Nothing brings me more pleasure than seeing her smile. It’s been that way for me for as long as I can remember.

Maria is having a cup of coffee when we burst through the kitchen door, laughing hysterically and trying to catch our breath. We’re always