I laugh. “Miss you too.”
Jay rolls his shoulders like he’s annoyed. “Did you need something, Mom?”
“You bet I do! I need you to be here tomorrow morning,” she says, her voice losing some of that sugariness from a second ago. “Jules is visiting. We’re all doing brunch.”
Jay exhales loudly through his nose.
“I can hear you,” admonishes Mrs.Scott. “It’s already work getting your father on board. Your support is crucial.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“It’s bad enough your sister’s only giving us a small window to be a family,” she continues to rant. “Seriously, she can’t see her friends another time? Of course not! Why would my only daughter come into town and act like any other college student—study, spend time with family,actlike an adult...”
I scratch my ear, cheating my eyes in Jay’s direction.
His posture is stiff. He’s white-knuckled, laser-focused on theroad. This is him anytime his parents bring up Jules.
Jay’s older sister is a rising junior at the University of Kentucky. Last time we spoke, she was still undeclared. It’s safe to say whatever she gets a degree in won’t garner any praise from her parents. They weren’t fans of her decision to not apply to any Ivy Leagues. Or her partying lifestyle. Her overspending on non-school-related things freshman year. The list goes on.
“Thank goodness you’re not turning out like her,” Mrs.Scott says.
“Yeah.” Jay sighs.
“Yale won’t know what to do with how great you’re going to be.”
“Nope. Can’t wait.”
Half of Jay’s bedroom is Yale paraphernalia. All provided by Mrs.Scott. Sometimes I wonder if Jay even wants to go there. Then again, that’s hypocritical, right? Dad name-drops Duke at least once a week and I mostly go along with it.
I can hear Mrs.Scott beaming through the speakers when she says, “Such a great role model for Jasper.”
Jay and I have talked about this before. The pressure from our parents. I’m an only child, so I don’t always get what it’s like for him. But in the quiet moments in his bedroom when we’re surrounded by books and unfinished papers and uncapped highlighters, we whisper about constantly having to think about what’s next. The steps we have to take. The people we have to impress. Jay does it with a half smile though, as if he kind of enjoys the challenge.
I wish I could tell him I don’t.
“I’m sure that’s all thanks to Darren and my golden boy, Theo!” Mrs.Scott adds.
On cue, Darren and I shout, “You’re welcome!”
Jay’s eyes flit from the road to me. I can’t read his expression, but it’s not the same one that was teasing Darren minutes ago.
“Yeah,” he huffs. “D and Golden Boy have my back.”
“Always,” Darren insists.
I nod.
TNT forever.
After Mrs.Scott lists off her expectations for tomorrow, she ends the call. A buffered silence hangs in the air. Drake resumes his half singing, half rapping about love. The GPS occasionally interrupts to give directions.
“Fuck,” Jay finally hisses. He thumps the steering wheel twice as we come to a stop at a red light.
“Jay,” I say, low and calm. I know how he gets after a bad call with his mom. “You good?”
He exhales a few tight breaths through his teeth, then absentmindedly digs into the center console. “Thank you, Alicia, for coming through with some pregame paraphernalia.” He produces a baggie with two rolled joints and several mini alcohol bottles.
Darren hoots from the back.