Page 31

THIRTY-ONE

lenni

I made the mistake of telling Gus at the football game that tomorrow he’d have a chance to toss a ball around with my personal friend, Number Eleven. Now I’m paying for it.

We’re on our way to the park because Gus insisted all through the rest of the game and at lunch and at my apartment that he has to get some practice in before he meets Cam. Which means me and my butterfingers will be spending the afternoon throwing a football.

Gus bolts out of the car the instant I pull into a parking spot. I call after him to wait, but he’s already found the nearest patch of open grass and starts hurling the ball across it with all the force his underpowered body can muster.

I don’t know how Mom does it. Other than to wolf down a double cheeseburger, Gus literally hasn’t stopped talking about Cam and the other football players since the game ended. And even though it’s making me a little nutty, every time he boasts about Cam being amazing and cool and the “king of football,” I can’t help feel a little swell of pride and think, Yeah, I know .

I haven’t told him Cam and I are dating because I’m not ready to field the questions Mom would immediately have, but I’m so freaking tempted. And this is where I am in life, dying to brag to my nine-year-old brother about my new boyfriend. Maybe someday I’ll be a real adult.

“C’mon, Lenni!” Gus calls as I get out of the car. “Pass with me!”

“Coming, bud.”

Even though throwing a ball ranks up there with watching paint dry on my excitement meter, I have a good time. It’s hard not to, standing across from my grinning little brother who busts out laughing every time my passes go awry. It’s sobering to realize this is probably the most fun he’s had in weeks, but I’m grateful for the reminder. This is why I bust my ass every day. Gus deserves more.

“All right, little dude,” I tell him when my arm starts wearing out, “I need a break or else I’m going to fall asleep before dinner time.”

I find an empty bench and look around. The park is huge and bustling with people kicking around soccer balls, picnicking, and pushing strollers. A line of trees separates us from the neighboring fields and as I look beyond it, my eye catches on someone familiar. Cam?

It can’t be him because why would he be here? After three days apart, I’m craving him hard, so no surprise if I’m seeing him in every well-built, wavy-haired man around. But then I see the guy toss a football down the field and I know it’s Cam. No one else moves like him.

I look back at Gus, who’s still happily pretending to be a football star. “Stay right here,” I tell him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I start crossing the field that separates me from Cam, feeling like a weirdo because I know I’m not going over there to say hello. I want to see what he’s up to.

He’s playing with a little boy, Liam, I guess. But the boy is tiny, far younger than Gus. So young, in fact, that Cam’s not even throwing the ball to him, he’s demonstrating his throw while the little boy bounces and claps a few feet away. He looks like Cam with his wavy brown hair cut almost the same length as Cam’s, and even from here I catch the blazing amber color of his eyes.

I smile as Cam runs toward the boy, dodges an imaginary opponent, throws the ball, and then scoops the kid off the ground, light and easy as a baby, and tosses him over his wide shoulders. My heart squeezes with emotion.

I wish I could go to him, but somehow it feels like I’m intruding. He didn’t say anything about spending time with Liam after the game; in fact, he said Liam would be leaving right away. I recognize the feeling that hits me, yet it takes me by surprise. It’s that heavy, stomach-churning sensation of suspicion. Mistrust. I thought I knew better than to feel that way about Cam after all the times he’s proven me wrong, but here it is.

I decide to ignore it. He’s not doing anything wrong. In fact, I’m the creep who’s spying on him. I’ll give him his space now, and I’ll ask him about it later. I’m not going to indulge the conjecture that’s landed me in so much misery before.

I’m about to head back to Gus when I notice the woman walking up to Cam. She’s blond and tiny and young. She reaches out to take the little boy from Cam’s arms, kisses him and sets him on the ground. She and Cam turn their backs to me as they watch the boy trot down the field, giving me an unadulterated view as she places her hand around my boyfriend’s arm and smiles up at him.

My stomach plummets.

My brain scrambles for some logical explanation. Cam doesn’t have a sister. And I know his mom is pretty, but this woman isn’t even thirty. She’s not his mother.

And that’s it. I’m out of explanations that don’t make me want to cry.

Gus and I spend the evening at the upscale arcade across town that caters to parents and kids alike with their greasy pizza, wine by the glass, and gourmet cupcakes. I skip the wine because of Gus and eat three huge cupcakes because of Cam.

Back at my apartment, Jade, Gus, and I play three rounds of Jenga with a bowl of popcorn between us. I tuck Gus into my bed and lay with him while he tells me about his two new friends from fourth grade who love soccer and how he’s too embarrassed to tell them the real reason he can’t sign up for the township team with them is that Mom can’t afford the registration fees on top of the swimming lessons he takes. She shouldn’t have told him that, she should have told me. Or Nana and Grandpa. Someone who might be able to help instead of the one person who’s helpless.

“Is it too late to register?” I ask Gus.

He nods his head sadly. “There’s another season in spring, but Mom already said she needs to save if I want to do summer camp again.”

“I’ll pay for spring soccer,” I say before I have time to think, weakened by my baby brother’s sweet brown eyes and my own memories of growing up without any extras.

Gus snaps his head toward me. “You will? Really?”

“Of course. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

He grins. “Cool! Thanks!”

“You got it. Now lie down and tell me more about fourth grade.”

Gus enters into a fresh story about his P.E. teacher while I think about what I’ve just done. I have no clue how much soccer registration is, but I’ll find a way to swing it somehow. Worst-case scenario, I’ll borrow from Cam; if we’re still together by then , I think darkly. But I won’t go there, not until Gus falls asleep at least.

When he finally does, I sneak out of my bedroom and find Jade. We pour a little wine and I lay out the story of what I saw at the park.

“If this were a movie, that would be his secret love child you saw,” Jade says once I’ve filled her in.

I can’t admit this is actually my leading theory. “And in real life?”

She looks thoughtful, then her mouth quirks. “Hate to say it, but . . . secret love child.”

I groan. “That’s too crazy. I mean, what kind of secret would the kid be if he parades it around at the park a block off campus?”

“Maybe it really is his brother.”

“The kid looked barely out of diapers. How long has his mom been birthing kids, twenty years?”

“Why not? Periods are the gift that keep on giving.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway, my problem is with the woman. Who the hell is she?”

“Hey, you know how you could find out? Ask him.”

“And admit I was spying on him?”

“It’s a public park!” Jade gestures with her wine glass, sloshing what little liquid was left onto the counter. “Fucking sleazo.”

“So you think he’s cheating.”

“Well, I was just starting to really like him, and we know I’m shit at judging a man’s character,” she says bitterly. And drunkenly. Sam still isn’t telling her what she wants to hear. “Are you still gonna see him tomorrow?”

“I can’t cancel. Gus would be crushed.”

“Good. Get some answers.”

She’s right. The last time I made assumptions about Cam, I came dangerously close to losing him altogether. Of course, that time didn’t feature a pretty blonde on his arm.

I just need to find some courage.

When I lie down next to Gus that night, I’m no closer to making sense of it. And without facts to go on, my fears run wild.

I found a good man, one who just keeps proving to me my fears have no place in our relationship, yet here I am, still gripped by worry and mistrust. When will I ever stop wondering what secrets he’s keeping from me?

The next morning, Gus and I meet Cam at the park; the same one where I saw him with the mystery blonde.

I barely look at Cam when we get there, but he plays along, probably because he knows I’m not telling Gus that we’re more than friends. But once they’re out on the field together, I can’t take my eyes off him.

He’s even better with Gus than I imagined he would be. He’s sweet and encouraging but doesn’t baby him. He shows him how to throw a football and how to run without dropping it, asks him all about school and his life back home, then actually listens to Gus’s answers. When Cam kneels down to double knot the shoelace on Gus’s sneaker that keeps coming loose, Gus looks over at me with the world’s biggest smile, and my heart swells.

I know this is hardly Cam’s idea of a great Sunday morning, but you wouldn’t know it by the way he acts. And he’s doing it for the person I love most. I don’t know how to square this Cameron with the one I saw yesterday. I have to ask him, but I’m not ready. I’m afraid of the lies he might tell as much as I’m afraid of the truth.

When Gus is finally worn out, we walk back to the parking lot, where Cam lets Gus sit in the driver’s seat of his truck, pop open the glove box, crawl into the bed and generally treat it like his own personal playground. As I finally drag my brother away, Cam offers to take us out for lunch, but I say no, we’re meeting my grandfather to eat before he takes Gus back home. I see the flicker of confusion in Cam’s eyes at my chilly goodbye.

“Meet me later?” he asks quietly as Gus hops into my old beater and busies himself with his seat belt.

I barely glance at him. “Probably not tonight. I really need to write.”

But as soon as the words are out, I think, Nope . This isn’t the way. How many times am I going to swallow it down and suffer in silence? That stopped working for me a long time ago.

“Actually, I’ll text you when I’m done writing,” I say. “Maybe we can meet up.”

After lunch with Gus and Grandpa, a few tears slip out on the drive back to my place. Saying goodbye to my brother always makes me emotional, especially knowing what he’s heading back to. Sure, things are pretty stable at home, and my grandparents give him every ounce of love they have, but I remember what it’s like. Just knowing your mom could fall apart any day keeps you in a permanent state of worry and instability.

I park outside my building and head up the sidewalk. That’s when I see Cam sitting on the steps. He looks up at me but doesn’t smile. I curse under my breath. I’m not ready for this conversation. I haven’t even figured out what I want to say, and after that I still need to rehearse the words in my head 6,000 times or until they lose all meaning.

“Hi,” I say coolly when I reach him. “What are you doing here? I said I’d text you.”

He makes no move to get out of my way. “I know what you said.”

“So let me finish what I need to do, and then we can talk.”

I try to step around him. He stands up, blocking me easily. “What are you pissed off about?”

I open my mouth, my instinct to deny, deny, deny, but I catch myself. I take a breath and try again. “I’m—” I begin, but a siren howls around the corner, silencing me.

Cam squares his body to mine, ready for whatever fight I’m about to drag us into. But am I? A fire truck turns onto the street and races past us, siren blaring. Questions simmer inside my head, things I have to ask him. I’m afraid of the answers, but I can’t sit agonizing over them any longer. Another fire truck speeds past, and an ambulance wails a few blocks away. I nod at Cam and move for the front door.