Breaking Free

Part 7

I pull into the driveway, but instead of getting out of the car right away, I just sit there for a moment, staring blankly at the steering wheel. The quiet hum of the engine is the only sound, and the house in front of me feels almost like a barrier. There's safety inside, sure, but there's also this pressure—an expectation to be the Tyler everyone knows. The Tyler who's always got it together, the Tyler who doesn't let anything faze him.

But that's not the Tyler who's sitting here right now.

I run a hand through my hair and sigh, finally turning off the car. I grab my bag and head inside, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Eli, the locker room, the party. Everything feels like it's piling up on top of me, and I can't get out from under it.

The door clicks shut behind me, and I'm greeted by the familiar sounds of home. The faint noise of the TV coming from the living room, the clinking of dishes in the kitchen. My mom's doing her usual evening routine, and for a second, it's almost comforting—almost.

"Tyler? Is that you?" Her voice calls out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, mom. It's me," I respond, kicking off my shoes by the door. I drop my bag on the floor, trying to shake off the weight on my shoulders as I walk towards the kitchen. Maybe if I just go through the motions, I can start to feel normal again.

I find her at the sink, washing dishes with her back to me. She glances over her shoulder as I enter, offering a smile. "How was practice?"

"Fine," I say, trying to keep my tone casual. I open the fridge, more out of habit than actual hunger, and stare blankly at the contents. "Same as usual."

"Just fine?" She asks, turning off the water and drying her hands with a towel. "You seemed a bit off when you walked in just now, no? Is everything alright?"

I close the fridge and lean against the counter, forcing a smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just tired from practice. Coach was on us pretty hard today."

She studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, and I can tell she doesn't completely buy it. But she doesn't push. "Well, just be sure you're taking care of yourself. You've been working really hard lately."

"I will," I say, nodding. "I'm fine, mom. Really."

She gives me a small smile and steps closer, brushing a hand through my hair like she used to when I was a kid. "Okay. But if you ever need to talk, you know I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, I know," I say, pulling away gently. The truth is, I want to talk to her. I want to tell her everything that's been swirling around in my head. But I can't. Not yet. I don't even know how to explain it all to myself, let alone to her.

"I'm gonna head up and take a shower," I say, grabbing my bag again and heading towards the stairs.

"Alright," she calls after me. "Don't take too long, though. Dinners almost ready."

I nod without looking back, taking the stairs two at a time. As soon as I reach my room, I close the door behind me and lean against it, letting out a long breath. The silence in here feels different than the silence in the car—heavier, somehow. Like all the thoughts I've been trying to push down are waiting for me, ready to crash over me the second I let my guard down.

I toss my bag down on the bed and sit down next to it, staring at the wall. The conversation with my mom keeps replaying in my head. She knows something's up, but I can't bring myself to tell her the truth. I can't even tell myself the truth.

And then there's Eli.

I can't stop thinking about him. The way he looked at me, the way he seemed so comfortable in his own skin.