Page 101 of Elite Player
Mamaw takes a few steps forward, indignant. “That’s not very nice, Nico. I thought you were a good boy.”
Nico snorts. “One quick Google search will tell you I’m not, but even I know not to touch anyone without their consent. So keep your hands to yourself from now on. It’s not cute, especially for an eighty-five-year-old.”
“I am seventy-seven.”
He lifts a careless shoulder. “Coulda fooled me.”
She gasps. Out of everything, that’s what she’s most offended by, being mistaken for being “old.”
“I cannot believe this,” Mom says. “Never in my life have I been talked to like this.”
Nico flicks off an imaginary piece of lint from his coat as if he didn’t just take every single one of them down. “It’s a few years too late, in my opinion.”
Mom glowers at him. “Thank god whatever this is isn’t real.”
“It is real.” He turns to me. “Tell them. Tell them how much I love you.”
I do. I know he loves me. And I love him.
But the words are all jumbled up in my brain. My limbs feeling as if they are full of concrete, my mouth completely detached from my mind.
And my heart…
My heart is broken.
“Jo.” The single syllable from Nico contains so many words, entire dictionaries. And all of them heartrending.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, then step forward to face my family. “But we are not engaged.”
“Fucking ridiculous,” Danny spits, and Dad slaps him upside the head.
“Watch your mouth.”
“I never meant to involve Nico in this. He only is because he walked into my hospital room that day to visit me. He accidentally knocked me out with a puck, and he came to apologize.”
“You can’t be serious right now.” Waylon throws up his hands. “He knocked you out, and you let him hang around?”
“It was an accident, and he has more than made up for it.”
“By pretending to want to marry you,” Lizzie says with a smug, victorious laugh.
“But you told me you were engaged in the summer,” Mom chimes in. “You’ve been lying to me that whole time?”
I nod. “I was never even dating anyone. I only told you so because you wouldn’t leave me alone about it. You treat me as if I’m nothing without a boyfriend.”
“That’s not?—”
“It is, Mom. You’ve always made me feel like my only purpose in life was to get a boyfriend. Marry and have kids, but how can I find anyone when you’re constantly cutting me down?” I meet all of their eyes, trying to keep my voice from quavering. “All of you cut me down. Day after day, you bullied me, and if you didn’t outright pick on me or call me names ormake me think I was worthless, you didn’t stand up for me. You didn’t tell anyone to back off. You let it go, told me it was a joke. Told me I needed to simply keep my chin up, but how can I keep my chin up when everyone in this town calls me names?”
Mom sighs like I’m being dramatic. “No one has bullied you, Josephine.”
It doesn’t hurt. Not anymore. Not when everything is laid so bare. There is nothing left to do. Nothing they can take away from me anymore, when I’ve been stripped of all my dignity.
So I do keep my chin up this time. “No, I’ve only been called Bucky Beaver my whole life by every single one of you. By the whole town. But I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it. You didn’t mean to make fun of me for what I looked like. You didn’t mean to make me feel worthless with every comment about my photography as my ‘little hobby.’ You didn’t mean to make me feel ashamed for being born into this body every time you told me to cover it up. You didn’t mean to make me feel insignificant every time you let my siblings make fun of me relentlessly until I wished I wasn’t a part of this family. Until I wished I wasn’t a part of this world anymore and considered what it would be like if I simply downed a bottle of pills to make it easier on everyone. On me and all of you. It seemed like you would be happier if I weren’t around anymore.”
The family stares blankly at me. I’m not sure if any of this registers. If they even care, but I go on. “My whole life, I was the butt of every joke. I hated myself for a long time, and finally—finally—I find my place in the world and have started to be confident, but I can’t even have that, can I? Because anything outside of this town is terrible. Me living on my own is unacceptable. Being single, what a nightmare! So, yes, I made up a story, so you would leave me alone to live my life. But I can’t do that. I can’t ever be happy living my life, because none of you will let me. None of you will ever let me live Bucky Beaver down, so I guess…congratulations. You win. You did it. You’ve officially crushed Josephine Atkins.”
Truly, there is nothing left.
