Page 53 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

BEAR

ACCOUNTABILITY PARTNER

Saturday’s practice meant Vernon glaring, but I wasn’t doing anything against his stupid rules. I even calmed down Elijah when he antagonized Riley. Vernon couldn’t say shit.

Feeling pretty good, I left the showers and found June waiting for me.

“Hey.” She gave an awkward smile. “Want to do something fun today?”

What did that mean? Studying for classes? Going out for lunch? Long walks on the beach, holding hands? I shouldered my bag. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“I’m telling my parents about my eating disorder.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline, and I brushed Montoya away when he tried to join the conversation. The rest of my teammates were leaving so I brought June to a quieter corner. “I—uh?—”

“You don’t have to get out of the car,” she assured me. “I can do it myself, I just need the accountability.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have…King?”

“Um, you’re the only one who knows.”

“Oh.”

She hesitated. “Sorry, I kind of sprung it on you. If you’re not comfortable, I understand?—”

“No. That’s awesome—not awesome—” I cleared my throat. “That’d be cool. Yeah.”

It wasn’t the ideal date scenario, but June trusted me enough to take me along. I fell into step beside her, my chest light.

I glanced at my shorts and wet t-shirt from the shower. “What do I wear?”

“I don’t think there’s a dress code for this.”

“I’ll wear a button-up,” I decided.

The farther we drove, the bigger the houses became, until we arrived at a long driveway, sheltered by leafy trees like we were entering a portal or something.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

Her family home was enormous. Seriously, I thought my dad’s place was big. The front archway was at least two stories tall, curving over the enormous wooden doors. There were gardens outside— plural, gardens—and a blonde woman walked along the house, she had to have been June’s mom.

June didn’t say anything, just tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.

I shifted over. “Do you need me to come in?”

“No—no.” With a deep breath, she pushed open her door. “I can do this. I just needed to…not do this alone.”

I watched from the passenger seat. June’s hands were shaking and the woman returned with a pair of gardening shears, stopping by June.

There were tense seconds. Her mom put a hand on her hip and listened while June talked. The front door opened and a portly man in a Hawaiian shirt tried to hug June before she continued talking.

They were in a triangle, an awkward distance between them. The longer June talked, the more the distance eased, until her mom dropped the gardening shears. She wrapped her arms around June, and my throat tightened while her dad hugged both of them.

It felt wrong to peer into their private moment, but I couldn’t look away.

Until June gestured to me.

My eyes dropped to my lap. Shit. Caught.

I stared at my sneakers, listening to the footsteps outside the car. June opened her door, eyes red, and she hurried to wipe away the tears. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said back, in that same awkward inflection.

“My—uh—parents want to meet you.”

“Oh.”

It was time to meet my roommate’s parents. The girl I had serious feelings for.

“Please don’t say weird shit,” I muttered to myself, following June inside.

Mr. and Mrs. Basil hugged me while I stood, stiff, until June ushered us to a private courtyard with a glass table set for lunch. There were more forks than I thought there were supposed to be.

“We’re obviously grateful for your involvement,” Mrs. Basil told me. “We appreciate discretion and an NDA?—”

“Mama,” June interjected.

“I can sign another one,” I said. “I won’t tell anyone about the—uh—hospital stuff.”

A guy on a Bluetooth call served us some kind of grilled chicken dish while June’s dad placed a napkin on his lap. “When are you moving back in, Junie?”

I glanced between them while June shifted uncomfortably. “Um, I can’t live on campus but maybe an apartment…?”

“Do you really think you should be living alone?” her mom said.

“No…I guess not.”

My stomach sank. Our routine had become so comfortable, I couldn’t imagine not living with her.

It took me a second to realize why they’d gotten so quiet.

June’s parents watched with laser focus as June picked up her fork.

I guess I could understand. It must’ve been pretty bad in June’s high school years for them to act like this, but it made me uneasy, watching June’s eyes flicker between them.

“Hey—” I blurted out and they turned to look at me. “I have—uh—fake teeth.”

“ What? ” Mrs. Basil asked.

Mr. Basil shot a look at his wife. “Excuse me?”

“From a puck in high school,” I explained. “Two front teeth. If you have a glass I could pop them into, that’d be awesome.”

They stared, dumbfounded, until June burst into laughter. She put a hand over her mouth to stop the giggles. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, Bear.”

“All good.” I grinned.

She took a bite of chicken, still laughing. “Do you really have fake teeth?”

“Uh-huh.” I held up a hand when her dad tried to stand up. “I don’t need the cup, I was kidding. I do have fake teeth though. If I’m under neon lights, they’re the only ones that don’t glow.”

June kept giggling, scooping up sweet potatoes on her fork. “You can’t take them out?”

“No but maybe next time I’ll get the ones that can. It’d be a cool party trick.”

At the door, they talked about the clinic in Houston that June wanted to go to—therapy twice a week. They hugged a bunch and her parents said they’d get her room ready for her welcome back.

I caught June’s eye when we made our way to the car.

“Good,” she answered without the question. “Easier than I thought. But that’s like step two of a million steps? So…you know…good.”

I slipped into the passenger seat. “Do you want ice cream?”

“You already did your babysitting duties,” she said lightly.

I reclined the seat. “I could really go for ice cream.”

The two of us gazed at each other and June bit her lip. “Frozen yogurt?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it.”

We stopped at a place on the outskirts of her neighborhood where I filled my cup with chocolate cake frozen yogurt. June stalled by the flavors.

“What are you getting?” I asked, dumping marshmallows and gummy worms on mine.

“Mm…strawberry.”

While I added as many cherries as I could, June stared at the toppings, holding her cup, only half-full. Her eyes wandered to the calorie information on the plastic guards.

I stepped beside her, my voice soft. “What’s your favorite?”

“Um…I like sprinkles.”

“Yeah? What kind of sprinkles are you getting?”

“I…I want rainbow sprinkles.”

I tried to pay for it, but June pushed her card instead and I shook my head. “Killer, you pay by the weight here, mine’s a thousand pounds?—”

“G&G card,” she said simply, swatting mine away.

We sat at one of the wrought-iron tables outside and June gazed into her cup. I took another bite of mine, watching her out of the corner of my eye until June took her first bite.

“Oh my god…” she whispered.

“It’s good, right?”

“It’s so good.” She closed her eyes, savoring it. “So fucking good.”

“Can I try some?”

“You want some of mine?” she asked, amused.

“We can trade. One of mine for one of yours.”

Her smile faltered and I knew why, but I didn’t want her to think this was purely to get her to eat more. I wanted us to be at that point where we could hang out like this and not because of hockey, or Xavier, or our dorm. I wanted to spend time together.

I swiped at her bowl and shoved the spoon in my mouth. “We can trade next time.”

“Next time,” she murmured and took another bite. “I haven’t had sprinkles since January. I love sprinkles.”

That was only half a cup of frozen yogurt but in a few weeks, maybe it’d be three-fourths of a cup, or even two toppings. One day, I wouldn’t need to count. One day, she wouldn’t be sick anymore and she could just get what she wanted.