Dark Horse

The Unavoidable Game

Do you feel like life ever tricks you? You know what I mean. Like when you look pretty and feel great and everything feels to be okay, but then life pulls the rug out from under you like, "oh, just kidding." Yup. This was my moment.

I thought I was getting better. I really did. I always took my medicine every day like I was supposed to and I guess I was happy again.
"Honey, you slept past your alarm," my mom's voice is cautious, like she's navigating a lethal animal rather than her daughter.
"Mom, I just can't," I say, suddenly tears appear, rolling down my cheeks.
"I can call Miss Eleanor and say you're coming in late."
"No," I say, more forcefully than I meant to. "I just can't go." Tears cascade down my face. My breath comes out in ragged sobs. It occurs to me I haven't cried like this in a while.
"Sweetie, can you just try-"
"No." My voice cracks. I bury my face under the covers. "I just can't."
Mom breathes a sigh of defeat.
"I'll get you some hot tea. Try to sleep a little, okay?" I nod. Like there's anything else I would do.
And that's what I do for the rest of the day. I wake up at 4:46 AM to my phone ringing. Mason.
I hit decline.

The next day was better.
The day after that was the worst.

"Mason, do you want to hang out over the weekend?" I asked him at school. The day before I hadn't really talked to him. Come to think of it, the day after the very bad day was kind of a blur.
"Well, what do you want to do?"
"Um..." I fiddled with my hair. "I dunno. You choose."
"I always have to choose," Mason said. There was an edge in his voice I chose to ignore.
"Well you get to choose again."
"See, Sophie, the problem with you is you always expect other people to do your dirty work for you-"
"I do not," I interject.
"Goddamnit, Sophie! Let me talk!" He yelled. People looked at us then shifted their eyes away. Embarrassed for us.
"You never want to stand up for yourself. People will run over you like that."
"People do not run over me, Mason. I'm not like you," I spat.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Your mother."
"My mother does not run over me."
"Whatever," I said sharply. "I'm late for math."
"Have fun!" He called.
"Don't count on it."

It's all a game, you see.
Whoever surrenders first loses.
Mason vs. me.
Whoever calls, whoever texts apologetically to the other person is weaker.
I'm not that person.
I'll just wait.

"Something happen between you and Mason?" My dad asks, startling me. I'm just trying to cry, eat cookie dough, and watch Grey's Anatomy in peace. Can't he see that?
"Why do you ask?"
"You're eating cookie dough, watching Netflix, and crying. That's like breakup 101."
"We didn't break up," I said, concentrating on scooping out a spoonful of cookie dough. Who knew humans could make something so delicious? "I don't think, at least."
My dad raised his eyebrows.
"I'm sorry. I don't know how these things work."
"Well did he say 'we're done' or 'it's over' or something of that sort?"
"Well, no."
"See? You didn't break up."
"It's not that easy, Dad."
"Isn't it?"

"Mason's here," my mom announces a couple hours later.
"Don't want to see him," I say, not taking my eyes from the TV.
"I'm sorry, but you're going to." I hear my mom open the door and her 'hello
Mason'. I close my eyes.
"Sophie," I hear him say. He pauses the TV.
"Sophie, please look at me."
I open my eyes. He's holding a bouquet of roses.
"I'm sorry."
He lost.