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Chapter Twenty-Seven

ROWAN

“ B uddy, we go together every year. I don’t understand why you’re being difficult about this?” My dad huffs down the line. I hate when he calls me ‘buddy’. He only uses that name when he wants something and isn’t planning on taking no for an answer.

“I don’t know if I have time this year.” It’s only partly a lie. Sure, we’re well into the season, and I have plenty to do. But mostly, I just don’t think I can take another year at my dad’s alma mater, watching his former team. Since I was a kid, we would sit together in the stands, and he would tell me about what my life would be like when I was on the field, when I got drafted, and when I finished what he couldn’t by playing in the NFL.

Since then, I’ve let him down twice: first when I committed to Beaufort and second when I told him that I wasn’t going to enter the draft, that I wanted to coach.

“Son, you need to make time.” His voice has turned serious, no longer trying to cajole me. This is how Keith Ainsley operates. One minute he’s your best friend, and the next, he’s telling you how it’s going to be. “I don’t ask for much, but this is something I don’t expect you to let me down on.”

I sigh, not able to deal with this argument. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good man.”

He hangs up, barely uttering a farewell. I’d place money that within the hour, I’ll have a text from my mom, trying to smooth over the tension between us.

“What did Keithy want?” Trevor yawns as he flops down next to me on the couch. I tip my head back until it hits the cushion, not ready to talk about it.

“The game.” I squeeze my eyes shut, as if I can pretend that call never happened.

“Ahhhh, that time again, is it?”

“I guess so.”

“He pull the whole ‘I don’t ask for much, you need to make time for this’ bullshit?”

That pulls a chuckle out of me. “It’s like you’ve heard it before.”

He makes a grumble of assent.

Sure enough, a minute later, my phone lights up with a message.

MOM

He just wants to spend time with you.

“That Pheebs?” Trevor asks. He’s seen this whole routine almost as often as I have.

“Don’t call her that.” I shoot him a glare.

“What?” He laughs. “Your mom loves me. We’re like that.” He holds up two crossed fingers and I bat his hand away.

“Fuck off, you’re not allowed to be friends.”

“Too late, pal.”

My phone buzzes again.

MOM

It’s because he cares, these games are important to him, he wants to share it with his son.

Are you really not going to go?

I sigh, hating the thought that all this might be stressing her out, even if she shares some blame for how things are, always rushing to smooth things over and never calling him out. I don’t want things to be hard for her.

Rowan

I’ll go.

MOM

Oh Honey, that’s wonderful news!

Why don’t you bring Trevor with you? He’s such a nice boy, I’m sure he’d get along great with your dad!

A loud laugh next to me tells me Trevor is reading over my shoulder. I shove him away.

Rowan

I don’t know

MOM

At least think about it, it might be nice to have a buffer.

She doesn’t bring up why I might need a buffer, but I don’t call her on that small hypocrisy.

“I’m not going,” Trevor pipes up.

“I didn’t ask.”

“Sure, but I’m saying if you did, I’d say no.”

“I’m not gonna.” I frown at where he’s stood in the kitchen, starting to pull out ingredients.

“Just so we’re clear.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ ask!” I yell, throwing a cushion that bounces harmlessly off the island.

“Okay!” He’s in full fits of laughter now, the asshole.

“You think I can get out of it?”

“Based on your track record, I’d say it’s not likely.” He’s not wrong. Every year, I bitch and whine about this game, saying I’m not going to go, that finally I’ll tell my dad to just let me live my life. But every year, I’m next to him in the stands, cheering on Northridge. “You should ask Ruth.”

I look up to see his shit-eating grin, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Why?”

“I’m not letting my dad anywhere near her!”

“You said she’s nice! And talks a lot!” he exclaims. “She can talk to your dad, and you can just sit there and pretend you’re somewhere else.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to sic my father on her.”

“What are you worried about?”

“We’re barely friends again. We’re not exactly at the ‘meet the parents’ stage yet.”

“Yet?” Trevor raises an eyebrow.

“Fuck you.” I’m not having this conversation right now.

“She’s not just gonna let Keith walk all over her.” Trevor rounds the island to stand in front of me on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’ve never met her,” I protest.

“All you do is talk about how she’s always giving you shit, how she doesn’t let you get away with anything.”

Do I really talk about Ruth that much?

“From what you’ve said, she’ll have your dad eating out the palm of her hand before the third quarter.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Answer me this: would you have a better time if she was there?”

“Yes,” I answer without thinking. I’m always happier around Ruth.

“Then ask.”

“It’s not that easy. She’s still feeling weird about the kiss.”

“I’m not saying you do another kidnap-”

“I didn’t do any kidnapping the first time,” I cut in.

“You supervised.”

“Unwillingly!” I throw my hands up. “I was as much a victim as she was.”

Trevor’s stare makes me realize how stupid that sounded, and I wince.

“You’d only be asking the question,” he offers, his voice gentle. “You deserve to have someone in your corner for once.”

“Then you come!”

“Fuck no,” he snorts. “I love you man, but you gotta get your girl to tap in on this one.”

“She’s not my girl.” I level him with a glower.

He just waggles his eyebrows and turns on the blender, cutting off any more argument.

I sigh. Maybe he’s right? Maybe bringing Ruth isn’t such a bad idea? I mean, sure, she might never speak to me again after I inflict my dad on her, but maybe it’ll go the other way? Maybe it’ll be so horrible that we can do a little trauma bonding and get over the awkwardness that’s been dogging us?

I know I’m just trying to find an excuse because, as much as I don’t want to admit it, Trevor’s right. I’ll have a better time if she’s there. I’m pretty sure I’d have a better time doing just about anything if she’s around.