“Ryan?” Jake opened the bedroom door to find his son asleep on top of the comforter in his practice sweat suit, his hoodie pulled over his head and his ears plugged with his earbuds. His arm was flopped over Moose, who was asleep, amid an open laptop, textbooks, and school papers.
“Ryan!” Jake said, louder. He was still in his suit jacket, breathless. He’d raced home, but traffic had been terrible. He approached the bed, but only Moose woke up, thumping his tail on the comforter and raising his head slightly.
Jake sat down on the edge of the bed, gave the dog a quick pat, and tugged one of the earbuds from Ryan’s ear. “Ryan, wake up.”
“Dad?” Ryan’s eyelids fluttered, and Jake rubbed his arm, in the cottony sweatshirt.
“How are you doing, pal? Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Ryan answered, weakly.
“Why don’t you wake up? We need to talk.”
“Leave me alone. Can’t I sleep?” Ryan’s eyes closed again.
“No, we need to talk.” Jake rubbed his arm again, to get him going. “Why didn’t you go to Western Civ? Your mom found out from the Parent Portal that you missed your test.”
“Don’t worry about it, Dad. I’ll tell her that I was throwing up again.”
“No, you can’t do that. Because I told her that I saw you during lunch and you seemed fine.”
“What?” Ryan frowned, opening his eyes. He rose sleepily and propped himself on his elbow. “Why did you do that? She never had to know.”
“I didn’t tell her. Amy did. Mom called my office.”
“Oh no.” Ryan rubbed his face, leaving reddish streaks, and sat up.
“Why didn’t you go to class? You said you were going to.”
“Iwasgoing to.” Ryan met Jake’s eye, pained. “I went to my locker and got my books, and I was about to go in, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about the pictures and that night, and now someone’sblackmailingus. It’s just so bad. It just keeps getting worse and worse.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Jake squeezed him on the shoulder. “I know, it’s a lot to deal with, but that’s why you have to let me deal with it.”
“What happened with the blackmailer guy?”
“It’s all in order. I have the money and I’m giving it to him tomorrow.”
Ryan’s eyes flared in alarm. “Dad, be careful. Are you meeting him somewhere? He could have a gun.”
“He’s coming to my office, and I’m in no personal danger.” Jake squeezed his arm again. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself. You have to do your thing at school. You can’t be missing these classes. It’s not good for you and it’s too hard to explain. You went to practice, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I screwed up there, too.” Ryan shook his head. “I sucked so bad. It’s like I forgot how to shoot.”
“Oh no.” Jake’s heart went out to him. It killed him to think that his son was getting so derailed. “It’ll come back. You’re just upset now, is all.”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’m going to start next game. It’s a shit show.”
“Watch your language,” Jake heard himself saying, out of an impulse to control something, somewhere, to hold a line against chaos, but misplaced. “It’s okay.”
“No, you’re right.” Ryan slipped off his hood and rubbed his hair front and back. “I gotta man up. Coach is starting to look at me funny, and Dr. Dave’s all up in my grille.”
“Dr. Dave? What does he have to say?”
“He thinks I’m depressed.”
“Did he say that?”
“No, but I can tell. He hints around.”
