I am the Skeleton in the Closet

The Realization

Eric had always dreamed about being a football player. He always wanted to be the quarterback. He hoped to get into college football for one of the semi-local schools. He absolutely loved the sport, and always made me participate in fantasy football with his dad and half brothers, neither of which I'd ever met. The first time he made me do it I just let the app we were using autopilot my team. How do they even know who these people are? I may not know myself all that well but I sure as Hell know I don't like this. Why do they even like this shit? I chastised the whole way through. Somehow I ended up winning the entire thing having only taken maybe two glances at the app. Just goes to show how dumb the sport is. I laughed in my head when I found out. When we moved up a grade and Eric became a senior he started acting on his dream of playing football for college.

"Ju-just ta-talked to the um um uh co-coach!" He came in all excited wearing a full suit.

Why's he always just randomly wear a suit to school? It's school. I made fun in my head as I asked. "What'd he say?"

"He-he said that if I um um uh ma-make these be-be - elalaaa - so-sorry I um um uh can't ta-talk to-to-today." He put his hand over his mouth and his eyes bugged out for a second as he cleared his throat. "He said that i-if I um make these be-ben-benchmarks I-I can ma-maybe ma-make th-the team. Var-var-varsity!" He leaned back and put his arms out for a happy jump hug. I obliged and then sat back down where I was.

"So what's that mean?"

"It means tha-that I-I'm umum uh go-gonna-na start wo-working out now. Yo-you're go-gonna have a-a-a bu-buff boyfriend." He slid into the seat next to me.

"Ooo." I half mocked. "Scary."

"I-I'm gonna work out la-later to-today. So w-we ca-can't hang." He added.

"Eh, I think I'll survive." I decided quickly frosting the rest of the cream cheese on my daily blueberry bagel breakfast. I guess that's looking up then. I have to start being more honest with him though, I really hate football. I'll muster up the courage to tell him sooner or later. I assured myself. A buff boyfriend could be good though. Not as easy or comfortable to cuddly, but we'll see, if he follows through with it that is. Solid forty percent chance he will, but it's something. I guess.

The next day he came in as if he should have been wearing a full body cast. Again, wearing a full suit though I'm still baffled as to how he got it on with the amount of pain he was supposedly in.

Seeeeeeiiii he inhaled as he raised his leg trying to sit down next to me. "N-no, no-not happening. Ooo." He winced.

"What's wrong with you?" I sighed. This time. I added in my head loathingly discreetly rolling my eyes. We're gonna have to talk about this whole always in some kind of pain thing one of these days. We'll get there. I pushed off the topic for the moment. You have to be more honest with him about what you really want to say. No more of this adding comments in your head thing. I scolded myself. Right now isn't the time. Look at him. I looked him up and down checking out his condition. Blowing it out of proportion probably, but I can't just say that.

"I um um I ooo... I. ssssssiii... n-nno that's no-not ha-happening either." He tried to stretch his arm out.

"What's wrong?" I asked again equally monotone.

"I ca-can't mo-move my arm pa-past he-here." He demonstrated.

"Why not?" I at least should do away with that fake tone to my voice. I decided to keep up with my disinterested tone. It's refreshing to say things how actually think them.

"I wo-worked out for I-I do-don't kn-know, a ha-half ho-hour. Wi-without a um b-break. I ca-can't move at a-all. Sss-see?" He demonstrated again.

"A half hour?" I clarified "Without a break?"