Aftermath(64)

“She’s had to work late. I’ve been traumatized.”

He snorts. “More like relieved.”

“Kind of what I said. Which was, yes, rude. Now I feel bad, but if I go out there to explain, it’ll start all over again. I’m calm now. I’d like to stay calm.”

“Have you had dinner?”

“Not exactly my priority at the moment.”

“Your growling stomach begs to differ.”

She rolls out of sight. When she returns, she’s opening a Hershey bar.

“That’s not dinner,” he says.

She smiles. “You sound like…” The smile falters, and she trails off, and Jesse remembers Luka giving her crap for not eating right.

“I’ll bring you pizza,” he says quickly.

“Is that any better than this?” She waves the bar.

“Sure. Meat, veggies, cheese, bread. All the food groups. I’ll sneak it to you through the window.”

“Did you forget I’m on the twelfth floor?”

“My parents got me a drone for my birthday. I could fly it up.”

“I don’t think it’ll carry a whole pizza.”

“Slice by slice.”

He has her laughing now, and he closes his eyes, just to listen to the sound. When he opens them again, she’s smiling at him, her expression softer, wistful.

“Missed you,” she says.

“Missed you, too.”

Her eyes glisten, as if she’s going to cry, and he quickly says, “Can you sneak out?”

“What?”

“Sneak out and grab dinner with me. Put on music or something so Mae thinks you’re in bed.”

“Wow. That’s downright devious.”

“I’ve changed, remember? Just leave her a note, in case she figures it out, so she doesn’t worry.”

She smiles. “You haven’t changed that much. Yes, of course, I’ll leave a note. Can you get away?”

He nods. “I didn’t storm off. I just retreated.”

“Naturally.”

“I’ll see if I can get the car and text you in a few.”

Jesse walks into the kitchen, where his mother is baking bread. That’s what she does when she’s stressed. For months after Jamil died, Jesse’s dad would make daily food bank runs to donate fresh loaves. Now, when Jesse walks in, his dad is at the table, silently watching as she kneads.

He spots Jesse, nods and goes to leave the kitchen. Jesse motions for him to stay, but he shakes his head and squeezes Jesse’s shoulder as he passes. It’s only then, as his dad leaves, that his mom notices Jesse’s there.

“Oh,” she says.

“Hey, I —”

“I want to talk to you,” she says, and wipes flour from her hands. “About the steroids.”

He stiffens, and then he reminds himself that he’s the one who wanted to come clean. That means he’s going to have to talk about it.

“You said you took them for training,” Mom says. “During the off-season.”

“Yes, but if you’re going to argue that that makes it okay —”

“Did you know what kind you were on?”

He tells her, and she wants to know the dose, and when he finishes explaining, she says, “That’s a common one, and at that dose, it’s hardly going to —”

“Mom…”

More towel wiping, though he doesn’t see a speck of flour on her brown hands. “Steroids serve medical purposes, too, so I’m familiar with them. The one you were on is widespread among recreational weight lifters, and to them, it’s not much different than protein shakes and egg whites.”

“If it wasn’t a problem, my trainer would have asked you to get them for me.”

“Yes, but on a scale —”

“I don’t want to judge this on a scale.”

“Using them for training is very different from using them on the field. Even a drug test wouldn’t have shown any trace. They’d be out of your system.”

“Great. So if I announce that I used steroids for training, no one will care? The coach won’t get in trouble? No one will demand I return my awards?”

She stops the hand wiping. “I’m not sure you’d want to go that far.”

“Exactly. What I did was wrong. I knew it was wrong. I kept doing it.” Jesse leans against the counter. “I made a mistake, and I’m going to ask you to let me own that mistake. I’m not going to publicly announce that I juiced – but only because it would cause problems for the team. I’m just going to quit, okay? But between you and me, we know what happened and that those trophies belong in the trash. Keep the ones I earned. My academic ones. I want to get back to earning more of them.”

She throws her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He sighs. “I know. Just… don’t be afraid to let me stumble, okay, Mom? I appreciate the support, but these days I really need a kick in the butt more than a pat on the head. Anyway, I was coming in to say that I’m going to visit Skye. She’s dealing with some stuff —”

“That’s right. What happened at school?”

“Stuff.”

“More specifically?”