Page 88 of As You Walk On

I scroll through my cluttered activity screen.

A handful of likes on a post I made yesterday. Ten new followers after I’m tagged in a live video dancing with Kendra. The last notification is ayour post from 1 year agoreminder. I make the mistake of clicking on it.

It’s me and Dad.

Our arms are around each other’s shoulders. We’re cheesing for a selfie after a big meet. I’m still in my track gear. A first-place medal hangs from Dad’s neck. He’s also wearing a Duke T-shirt with a matching fitted baseball cap. It was one of his rare weekday evenings off. He drove an hour in traffic to come see me run.

His caption is as loud as his voice that day:

Duke-bound,baby!

An abyss opens in my stomach. Guilt has been quietly gnawing at my insides since I walked away from Jay in front of everyone. Now I can’t decide if it’s because of how I acted toward him or because of what our complicated situation means for Dad’s dreams.

“Mom! No. I’m fine.”

I jolt at the sound of Jay’s voice. He’s leaning against his SUV. Well, it looks more like the SUV is holding him up. Blond strands have come loose from his topknot. They hang messy and greasy over his face as he groans into his phone.

“No, I haven’t been drinking!”

I stop short.

Jay swallows hard when his eyes raise. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge me. Whatever Mrs.Scott is yelling distracts him.

“No, I’m not using the Jules tone with you. Don’t say that.”

His shoulders fall. Whether it’s from frustration or exhaustion, I can’t tell. But I don’t inch any closer.

“I’ll be home soon,” he says through his teeth. “Yes, I’m still with D and...”

His eyes flit back to me. His nostrils flare widely when he adds, “And your golden boy.”

The nickname, his voice sharp, claws at my flesh. Rips away my own fatigue. Leaves behind exposed nerves and weakened bones.

“I swear, I’m not gonna fu—I won’tmess upanything by doing something stupid. I know better.” Jay sizes me up again. I tighten all my muscles, fighting the flinch threatening to break free. His frown deepens. “Love you too. Gotta go.”

He hangs up before Mrs.Scott finishes. If that were Dad, my phone would be lighting up instantly. Hell, he’d probably be pulling up right now with a stern lecture.

“Mom says hi.” Jay laughs hoarsely. “Like always.”

I don’t try to interpret the look in his eyes.

Instead, I ask, “Are you okay?”

He waves a sloppy, dismissive hand at me. “All good.” The slur in his voice says otherwise.

“Okay.” I draw out the word as I approach. “Give me your phone. I’m ordering a rideshare. You can’t drive.”

“Can’t drive ’cause you have, uh, my key-thingy.”

Really? Key-thingy? I cross my arms. “I have your keys because—”

“You left us.” Hepffts until the hair in his eyes moves. “Left me.”

It’s hard to pretend his wounded voice doesn’t bother me.

I kick loose rocks from the street. “You were being an ass.”

He doesn’t have a comeback for that. Only rubs at the back of his neck in that shy way he does when his mom’s scolding him for something Jules did and has nowhere else to place the blame.

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