The Beautiful Game 03

"I'm so, sorry, M.J.," Annette said in a soothing tone, "I'm so sorry." Annette's tears dripped onto M.J.'s head, and she idly wiped them away, stroking her daughter's hair to comfort her.

"Thanks, Mom," M.J. whispered, letting her mother stroke her hair. After a few minutes, she raised her head. "Mom, I need to be alone."

Annette kissed her daughter's head, and silently walked out of the room, closing the door.

M.J. stared again at the screen, trying to figure out what to say, but the words never came. She went into her bedroom and lay on the bed, staring into the dark. There was a knock on the door, and M.J. said, "Mom, please leave me alone."

The door opened anyway, and Sam entered her room, shutting the door behind her.

"What are you—" M.J. started, but Sam interrupted her.

"Your mom called me. Said that you needed me."

"She was wrong. I'm fine," M.J. spat out.

"Bullshit. You haven't been fine since Eduardo left."

M.J. flinched hearing the name. "So? It is my problem. I'll deal with it."

"More bullshit," Sam responded, looking up at her taller friend. "You aren't dealing with it. And you don't need to do it alone."

"I do," M.J. responded, but with some doubt creeping into her voice.

Sam sat down on M.J.'s bed and M.J. followed. She turned to face her friend, tucking her muscular leg under her. "M.J.," she started in a soothing tone, "you were there for me when I thought I was pregnant, and I'm here for you now."

M.J. was silent, as Sam continued. "You always have to be the strong one, the silent fucking leader, the example, but you don't need to do this alone. You can't do everything yourself. This is life, not a fucking soccer game, where you can put the team on your back and carry us to victory. Let me help you. It's eating you up. And I hate seeing you like this."

The silence in the room was oppressive, and Sam could see M.J.'s face twitch and her lips quiver.

"He's gone," she whispered. "Gone forever."

"I know," Sam said, softly. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I just feel empty and hurt."

"He didn't do it to you. It just happened."

"I know," M.J. responded, "but it really hurts."

Sam paused, started talking, then stopped. She thought some more, and said, "Don't kill me for saying this, but you have to move on. You can't let this destroy you."

In a weak voice, M.J. started, "But what if no one else—"

Sam interrupted, "Are you serious? You are beautiful, an incredible athlete, and if you let people in, they would know what an incredible person you are. Boys—men—are going to line up to go out with you in college, and for the rest of your fucking life."

"But, I love him," M.J. whispered.

"Maybe you do. But you loved Josh, too. You never do anything half way, and that quality is going to help you go far, but it also means that you are going to get hurt."

"I can't help it. I'm not like you."

"Are you calling me a slut?" Sam said, chuckling in an attempt to break the tension.

"No, I mean, you are easygoing. Shit rolls off your back."

Sam nodded. "Maybe that's why we've been so good for each other."

"How am I going to make it at college without you?" M.J. asked.

"There you go again, thinking the worst. You will do fine. I know it."

The girls were silent. They could hear the sound of the TV playing downstairs.

"So what do I say to Eduardo?" M.J. asked plaintively.

"Tell him the truth. Tell him how you feel. Then, try to move on, or you will just drown in self-pity. I know you can do it."

M.J. swallowed hard, and wiped the tears that were streaming, unacknowledged, down her pale cheeks with the back of her hand. She nodded.

Sam stood and started toward the door. "You are stronger than you think. All of us have relied on that. But you know that I am always here for you. Always."

M.J. stood up and followed Sam out the door of her room. They hugged, and Sam headed down the stairs, while M.J. walked to the room where the family computer sat.

M.J. opened the email again, and forced herself to read it again. She thought about what Sam had said, and realized that she was right. She needed to move on, and try to get on with her life. A few times, she started to type, but it seemed wrong and she deleted the message. Finally, though, she wrote something that seemed to be right.

"Eduardo, I have been so sad since you left, but I understand that you needed to be with your family. I will always love you and remember our time. I hope that things become easier for you, but you did the right thing. I know that, even if it hurts. Say hi to Veronica and your parents. M.J."

She read it again, and pressed send. M.J. took a deep breath and for the first time in weeks, she smiled and wiped her eyes. Standing up, she felt steady and strong, and went to her room.

The Next Morning

The alarm on her phone went off, and M.J. rolled out of bed and headed to the shower. She let the water run over her athletic body, enjoying the way it felt, enjoying feeling clean. But she needed to get ready for school, so she reluctantly turned off the water, wrapped herself in her red towel and headed for her room. Reaching deep into her closet, M.J. chose a dress that she hadn't worn since Eduardo left.

She returned to the bathroom, actually spent some time working on her hair and put on a touch of makeup. M.J. smiled as she looked at her reflection before turning away from the mirror and turning off the light. She thought to herself that maybe Sam was right. She knew she was no beauty, but she was attractive. M.J. realized that she was 18 and had already had two great boyfriends and lovers, and there was no reason why she wouldn't find another.

After her usual bowl of cereal, she grabbed her books and waited for Sam's car to pull up in front of the house. When she got in the car, Sam did a double take.

"Sooooo?" she asked her passenger.

"I did it. I wrote him back."

"Are you O.K.?"

"I think so. Yeah."

"So, I have to ask, what's with the dress?"

"I don't know. I just decided I needed to do something different. You were right, as usual. I know that people look up to me, and I can't let them down."

Sam smiled. "O.K. If that is what gets you through, that's fine. You look great, by the way."

M.J. paused for a second. "Thanks. And thanks."

Sam turned up the radio, and they drove to school without talking, but no longer in silence.