But when I get home, it isn’t exactly the relief it usually is. My dad is on deadline, my mom has been dealing with a major crisis at work, and Alice … well, I actually have no idea what Alice is doing. She’s in some sort of mood and for once, I can’t tell what kind, so I’m just all out of sorts. My parents apologize for missing the game and congratulate me on the win, but no one’s heart is in it. By 9 P.M., I’m lying on my bed, scrolling through my phone and trying to block out everything else. I guess I could turn on my Xbox, but even that feels like too much work. I’m completely wrung out.

After a little while, the strings that connect me and my family start to dissolve into the air—they’re falling asleep. My insides uncoil and I feel alone for the first time all week. I get a moment of enjoying the silence before something inside of me tries to make itself known.

Oh. Right. I have my own feelings. I sort of forgot about those. Honestly, I’d like to keep forgetting about them.

I put my phone away (watching clips of the guys’ post-game celebration is definitely not adding to the calm feeling) and pick up The Aeneid—might as well get a head start on our next unit. But as much as I try to lose myself in the Greek tragedy of it all, I can’t stop thinking about Adam.

Despite my fist’s history with other people’s faces, I don’t actually like hurting people. And I think I hurt Adam today. Actually, I’m pretty damn sure I hurt Adam today. That’s sort of the benefit (well … curse) of my Problem. It’s not fair that when I hurt somebody, I have to feel hurt too. And then I feel guilty on top of that and … well … it all really sucks.