Chapter 98: After the Game
The locker room had the specific, quiet quality of a space that had been full of noise and wasn't anymore.
Mike showered and changed with the unhurried movements of someone who had used everything available and was operating on the residual. The Demon Body was already running its recovery processes — the soreness would be manageable by morning, the deeper fatigue would take longer — but right now he was simply tired in the honest way.
He came out through the main exit with Georgie, who had been quieter than usual since the bus and was processing in the way Georgie processed things, which was slowly and internally.
The campus was nearly empty at this hour — the buses had come and gone, the families had collected their players, the event had concluded and taken most of its audience with it.
"Hey," Georgie said, nodding at the quiet parking lot. "No crowd."
Mike looked.
He was right — no cluster near the exit, no group of students lingering near the athletic entrance. A month ago, after the St. Mary's game, there had been people waiting at this gate.
"Yeah," Mike said.
Georgie looked at him sideways. "Does that bother you?"
"No," Mike said. And meant it straightforwardly.
Georgie made the sound of someone who found this response simultaneously believable and inexplicable. "You know, for most guys—"
"I know," Mike said.
"—that would be devastating."
"I know," Mike said again.
Georgie shook his head slightly. "You're weird."
"You've said that before," Mike said.
They walked.
Cady caught up with them near the parking lot exit.
She'd changed out of the cheerleading uniform and was in her regular clothes, and she had the specific slightly-winded quality of someone who had been moving quickly and had just arrived.
She looked at Mike.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," Mike said.
She fell into step beside him naturally, without ceremony. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he said.
She looked at him with the direct, unhurried attention she gave things she was genuinely asking about. "Actually okay, or—"
"Actually okay," he said. "It was a real game. We lost it. Both of those things are true."
She nodded. That seemed like the answer she'd been expecting and was satisfied with.
Georgie glanced between them.
"I'm going to get a ride with Aaron," he said, in the specific tone of someone manufacturing a reason to be somewhere else that was transparent and was intended to be transparent.
Mike looked at him.
Georgie gave him the small, private nod that meant: I see what I see. Go ahead.
He peeled off toward the far end of the parking lot.
They walked toward the bus loading area where the last of the school buses was preparing to depart, moving without particular urgency through the late-afternoon light.
"The routine was good today," Mike said.
Cady looked at him. "You were watching the routine."
"When I was on the sideline," he said. "Amy's new sections — they held together better than I expected at that venue size."
Cady was quiet for a moment. "Regina held it together," she said. Honest, not grudging. "She's actually very good at that. The bigger the stage, the more she focuses."
"I know," Mike said.
"It's complicated," Cady said, "finding genuine things to respect about someone you're also—" She stopped.
"Working against," Mike said.
"Working to change," she said. "That's more accurate."
He looked at her.
"Janis and I had a conversation this week," she said. "About the performance. About what I'm willing to do and what I'm not." She paused. "I told her there are lines I won't cross. She pushed back. We landed somewhere I can live with."
"What did you land on?" he said.
"Not making things go wrong," she said. "But not using what I know to make things go right for Regina when they don't have to." She looked ahead. "There's a difference."
"There is," he agreed.
They walked in silence for a moment.
"Math Olympiad practice starts this week," she said.
"Tuesday afternoon," he said. "First session."
"Kevin's already sent three preparation emails," she said.
"I got them," Mike said.
"Did you read them?"
"Two of them," he said.
She almost smiled. "Which two?"
"The first one and the one with the competition schedule."
"He's going to quiz us on the third one," she said.
"Probably," Mike said. "I'll read it tonight."
They had reached the point where the parking lot curved toward the main road, the school buses idling in their row, families and students moving around them in the organized, winding-down energy of an event concluding.
Cady stopped.
She looked at him with the specific, unhurried quality she had when she was going to say something she'd thought about.
"You played well today," she said. "I watched most of the second and third quarters from the sideline. Not just the plays — the decisions. Between plays. The way you were reading things." She paused. "That was good."
He looked at her.
"Not because it's a compliment," she said. "Because it's accurate."
"I know the difference," he said.
She gave him the small nod. "Monday, then."
"Monday," he said.
She went toward her bus.
He stood for a moment watching her go, in the specific, uncomplicated way of someone noting a thing they valued without needing to do anything about it.
On the far side of the parking lot, Janis and Damian had found Cady's bus and were leaning against the wall nearby with the patient, settled quality of people who had been waiting and were fine with having been waiting.
Janis watched Cady walk toward them.
She read Cady's expression with the specific attention she gave things that mattered.
"Well?" Damian said.
"He's fine," Cady said. "The game hit him but he's processing it right."
"And?" Janis said.
Cady looked at her.
"We have Math Olympiad practice Tuesday," Cady said. "Kevin sent three emails."
"That's not what I asked," Janis said.
"I know," Cady said.
Janis looked at her for another moment.
Then she picked up her bag.
"The spring invitational," she said. "Cotton invited Medford. If Medford plays St. Mary's again, Oher's going to be healthy by then."
"I know," Cady said.
"That's going to be interesting," Janis said.
"A lot of things are going to be interesting," Cady said.
Damian put his arm around Cady's shoulder as they walked toward the bus. "For what it's worth," he said, "you looked very good in the uniform today."
"Thank you," Cady said.
"Very composed," he said. "Very poised."
"Damian."
"I'm just saying."
"I know what you're saying."
"Is it working?"
"No," Cady said.
"Worth a try," Damian said, and they got on the bus.
Back on Meadowlark Lane, the Cooper house had the comfortable, specific warmth of a family that had been watching a game at home and was ready to receive the people who had been in it.
Mary had made dinner.
Missy answered the door.
She looked at Mike's face and said, "You lost."
"We lost," he said.
She stepped back and let him in.
George Sr. was in his armchair with his post-game expression — the one he wore when he was still working through what he'd seen, the film running internally while the house did its evening things around him.
"Mike," he said.
Mike sat down on the couch.
"What did you learn today?" George said.
It was a coaching question, delivered in the coaching voice, and Mike received it as one.
"I learned that individual ability has a ceiling that team depth doesn't," Mike said. "And I learned it from the inside, which is different from knowing it theoretically."
George looked at him.
"That's a real answer," he said.
"It was a real game," Mike said.
Sheldon appeared in the hallway doorway in his pajamas with the locomotive box under one arm and the expression of someone who had been waiting for an appropriate moment.
"Mike," he said.
"Yeah," Mike said.
"The final score was 79-65," Sheldon said. "I calculated that your personal offensive contribution accounted for approximately sixty-one percent of Medford's total points today."
"I know," Mike said.
"That's unsustainable," Sheldon said. "Even given your unusual physical attributes."
"I know that too," Mike said.
Sheldon considered this.
"However," he said, "sixty-one percent of sixty-five points against a program that's been to four state finals is statistically remarkable."
He went back to his room.
George Sr. looked at the doorway Sheldon had vacated.
"That's his version of 'you did good,'" George said.
"I know," Mike said.
Mary appeared from the kitchen.
"Dinner," she said. "Sit down."
Everyone sat down.
(End of Chapter 98)
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