Page 47 of The Midseason Fakeout

From behind us, my dad asks, “Are you going to school at Warner, Bailey? I had no idea.”

“I am,” she says, taking the bag from me. “Darrin too. We just transferred.”

“Aren’t you…younger? You’re Darrin’s younger sister, right?”

“She skipped a grade, Dad. Can you believe it?”

My dad looks at her, impressed. Bailey looks like she could crawl under a rock to live out the rest of her life and be fine with it.

“Yeah and speaking of, I should probably go study some more. Thanks for the late-night study session yesterday, Aidan. I really needed it. I’ll catch you later?”

She practically runs into the hall, and as soon as the door shuts, my dad bursts out laughing. “Late-night study session? For being so smart, she’s a terrible liar.”

“Sorry, Dad. I didn’t know you were coming in or I’d—”

“I’m just glad it was me and not your mom.”

Yeah. That would’ve been a nightmare.I laugh nervously.

“As long as you’re being safe.”

How does not even having sex sound for being safe? I don’t think my dad would appreciate the play-by-play, though, so I nod and leave it at that.

“Well, I’m gonna get going.” West checks his watch. “You got about five minutes.”

“I’ll see you at the next game,” Dad calls out, giving my roommate a quick wave.

“See you then, sir.”

The tension in the room builds when it’s just the two of us. It feels like a chasm grows with him on one side and me on the other. “Your mom would probably like to know you have a girlfriend, if that’s what she is.”

The itchy feeling on the back of my neck increases. “It’s relatively new. I haven’t been holding out for long. When she and Darrin transferred here, things…evolved,” I tell him, even though it was more like she was a defensive tackle homing in on me.

The thought makes me smile. She’s something else, that’s for sure.

“I look forward to getting to know her more when we’re up here for the game. We’re going to stay for a few days, we think. Send us an itinerary, and we’ll hang out.”

“Can you come to practice now?” I ask, hiking my thumb over my shoulder in the vicinity of the practice field.

“I actually gotta get back on the road. You know how it is. On company time and all that. But next week, I promise.”

I bite my lip. I hate goodbyes. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been in touch with them a lot. There’s nothing to miss if you don’t even talk. I walk toward him and throw my arms around him. “Thanks for stopping by, Dad. It was good to see you. I mean it.”

He holds me tight, the claps on my back a little stronger than they were when he first got here. “You’re making us so proud, Aidan.”

His voice chokes a little, and I hold a breath. I can’t let us leave on sad terms, though, so I say, “Even with the girl in my bedroom at seven in the morning?”

He chuckles into my shoulder. “I’m impressed. Smart. Terrible liar. Cute. An old friend. No one can fault you for that.”

When he puts it like that, Bailey sounds fantastic. And he doesn’t even know the half of it.

“I’ll have Mom call you with the deets of our trip,” Dad says, walking toward the door.

“Deets, Dad?”

“Hey, I’m hip. I know things. Plus, I saw it on MTV. I thought you’d be impressed.” He opens the door and gives me a smile. “See ya, Son.”

He gives me a two-finger salute before leaving, and I keep a smile on my face until the door closes.

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