SOPHIE BROOKS:
Party, hook-up, hangover, repeat.
I don't do rules, responsibility, or monogamy.
So when the chance to sleep with the hottest Olympian swimmer in the country presents itself, you can be damn sure I take it.
And sneak out before he wa...
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Today sucks.
It's like someone is sitting on my chest, making it impossible for me to draw a full breath or for my heart to beat properly.
I haven't eaten all day. That's not good. As an elite athlete, I have to eat a lot, and today I've had nothing. I'm nauseous, and the mere idea of food makes me want to vomit.
I stand in the doorway, unsure how to act. I should say something or help, or maybe just, I don't know, hold him, but I can't. I just stare as Ollie stuffs the last few things into his duffle.
This has been his room for almost seven years. Usually filled to the brim with books, his favorite dark green linens, and posters of weird alien things on his walls. That's how it's supposed to look.
Now, it just looks like a hotel room. No personality, no color, no Ollie. A bed, stripped down, pressed against the farthest wall. A desk clear of any memorabilia. The windowsill empty from the usual stacks of paperbacks.
Ollie turns to me, his face stoic. He's trying to be brave. It's horrible, isn't it? He just turned thirteen last week, and he's the mature one.
I just stand there, in the doorway, unable to offer up any comfort. Anything.
"I'm all packed," he says, a very slight tremor to his voice.
We don't know where he's going. Social services found a family in the area, but that's all we know.
"Good," I croak out, clearing my throat. "Um, well, not good, but you know... Yeah."
Great use of words, Jayden.
He drops the duffel back at my feet, looking up at me. He's getting tall, almost reaching my chin now. Just a few years, and he'll be battling me for tallest sibling.
I wonder how much he'll have grown the next time I see him.
He leans his head back, a wrinkle appearing on his forehead. He draws his lips into his mouth. "It's okay, JJ."
It's not, though. Nothing about this is okay. Yet, I nod, patting him on the shoulder because it's the only thing I can do not to fall apart.
If I try to speak, if I hug him... It might just break me into a million pieces.
I hear dishes clash from the kitchen, and Antonella mutters something in Spanish.
She's been locked in there most of the day, cooking food that no one has the appetite to eat. It's her way of coping.
We both look in the direction of the sound, and Ollie's shoulders stiffen. "I should go talk to her."
When did he get this grown-up?
I watch as he heads down the hallway, disappearing into the kitchen. Once he's out of sight, I slump against the wall. I could go sit on the bed or the abandoned desk chair, but I don't think I can cross the threshold to his room.
