Page 88 of Look Again

He moves the chair closer to the edge of the bed. “It’s you, Joey.”

I try to shake my head, but the spots come, and I stop.

He’s not done. “Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong. Because I’m not wrong. I’m withdrawing from the competition. You should have the chair position.” His voice is low and soft, and I’m almost sure I understand what he’s telling me.

“You are great at knowing what the kids need and helping them achieve it. You are responsible and you practically bury yourself to make things happen. You have such a great vision.”

He stops short and pulls in a breath that might be a gasp of shock. “I didn’t mean—” he says.

“I get it. No veiled references to going blind taken the wrong way,” I whisper. I unwrap my hands from the mug, which, despite being almost empty, is growing heavy in my hands. He takes it and places it on my nightstand.

I think about all these months, these challenges and arguments and misunderstandings and every bizarre thing we’ve been through. I try to remember why I wanted the chair position so badly.

So people would respect me? That’s silly. People do respect me. At least the ones who matter.

“I wanted to beat you.” I know he can hear me, even though I say the words so quietly. “I wanted to win to prove I’m real.”

The sound he makes might be a laugh. Or a cough. But it comes to my ears as softly as a sigh. “Oh, Joey. The only thing you were missing was a flaw. And now I’ve seen it. You’re the most real person I’ve ever known.”

I turn to look at him, sitting there with the shaded late-afternoon light filtering through my blinds. His perfectly sculpted hair, his straight shoulders, the slight lean forward toward me all prove somehow that he means it. He thinks of me as a person worth noticing. Worth paying attention to.

I reach to regain hold of both his hands and slip my fingers around inside his. He squeezes back and pulls them gently to his lips.

“Don’t quit, please,” I say. “Let’s see this thing through. Don’t walk away from things you want. Don’t bow out to be noble, or gentlemanly. Let’s both of us stay in this and see what comes of it.”

“I’m in it. All in. As slowly as you want me to go. Gently. For as long as it takes.” I don’t think he’s talking about the competition for the chair anymore.