Page 44 of Play Fake

“She doesn’t know about all my—”

“Fuck buddies?” She supplies helpfully.

“Right. She doesn’t know about any of that, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“She definitely knows.”

“No fucking way. I make sure she doesn’t.”

“You never bring home a girlfriend. Never talk about one. And you’re a good-looking guy playing college sports. Pretty sure she can put two and two together.” She looks at me like I’m more than a little dense.

“Oh god. I don’t want to think about my mom thinking about me and... Ugh.”

“I’m not saying she thinks about it, I’m just saying she knows.” She holds up her hands innocently.

“Well, don’t do it again.”

She laughs at my suffering as we meander down the street.

“But for real? What does it matter if you have a girlfriend or not?”

I shrug.

“It’s my senior year. I don’t know if I’ll get drafted. Coach says I have a good chance. Quite a few teams need linemen, but there are no guarantees. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t. I don’t really have a backup plan.”

“What’s your major?”

“Communications.”

“Of course it is.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just that I could see you hosting one of those sports shows. You have the personality. And everyone loves you. It makes sense.”

“It’s possible, but about as likely as a starting spot in the NFL. So…”

“And I’m guessing your mom is worried?”

“She may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“She cares. That’s good.”

“Yeah, but her worry is making me worry. So I just thought if I could show her, I’ve got some things together, that I’m getting my act together. Maybe she’ll worry a little less. And that’d probably be the best gift I could give her, given my little brother’s about to turn 14, and she has to do this all over again.”

“Your poor mom! Sounds like she probably needs a spa day.”

“Thought about it. But she says those are a waste of time and money.”

“Moms always say stuff like that. But if you make it in the NFL, you should get her a season pass. Because if you think she worries now, wait until she has to watch you taking hits every week on the field on national television.”

“Fair point.”

She smiles up at me, something flashing in her eyes I can’t quite read.

“I’m sure she’s proud of you.”

“Yeah. She’s always good at telling us that.”