Page 65 of Stealing for Keeps
His phone pings in his lap. As he reads it, his expression falls back into a scowl.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “No. I asked my teacher for an extension, and he just emailed me back to say that he’s not going to make an exception.”
I glance back at his open laptop. “I wish I could help, but I’m barely keeping up in class myself.”
“I’ll figure it out.” He waves me off. “Or my dad will kill me.”
I do not want to imagine how Coach Collins would react to his star player not making grades for the team. The fact that player is also his son…yikes.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” I get up and stand in the aisle.
“Hey,” Vaughn calls after me. The stressed expression is gone, and he’s smiling. “We’ll be ready for them next time.”
It’s a promise that fills me with relief and anticipation. I nod my agreement.
* * *
Dad is home when I walk in from the game. He and Mom are in the kitchen. His suitcase is in the middle of the room like he abandoned it mid-step.
“You’re here,” I say, feeling my grin widen. I step forward, and we embrace. “I didn’t think you were coming until next week.”
He squeezes me and pats my back. “A couple of meetings got canceled, so I was able to get away early.”
We pull back, and I look at him. His hair is grayed at his temples, and he’s wearing his glasses that he used to say were just for reading. I know he hasn’t changed that muchin the weeks since I’ve seen him, but when was the last time I really looked at him?
“Congrats on the game,” he says. “I heard you won.”
“We did,” I say, considering if I should tell him it felt more like a wake-up call than a victory, but I decide that I don’t want to ruin this moment with all that tonight. So instead, I tell him all the things I’ve been holding on to while he’s been away. My teammates, practices, working with Coach Collins. Mom has already gone to bed, and the clock on the oven reads after midnight when I’ve stopped thinking of more things I want to tell him.
His eyelids are droopy, and he covers a yawn. “I should get some sleep so I can get up in the morning to see your brother and sister when they wake up for school.”
We don’t have another game this week, but now that he’s here, I have a thought. “Will you come to practice tomorrow? Some of the other parents stop by and watch. As long as you don’t yell, Coach doesn’t care.”
“When have I ever yelled?” Dad asks. He’s the quiet, introspective type, so it’s not usually his style.
“Conference finals, freshman year.”
“That was an exception.” He waggles a finger. “That kid on the other team was trying to hurt someone. It was blatantly obvious.”
It’s true. That kid was out for blood and sneaky. The refs had a hard time catching him in the act. Still, the memory makes me smile as I picture my calm and collected dad on his feet with the rest of the parents, yelling and standing up for us.
“Let me see what your mother has planned for me in the morning, but I’ll make it if I can.”
I smile. “Night, Dad.”
When I get up to my room, I change and get ready for bed, then lie back on my mattress with my phone.
Vaughn has already sent some video content from the game for us to analyze. Usually, I’d be all about replaying my performance so I can make adjustments for the next game, but Claire’s name catches my attention.
Claire: I have some ideas for our project. Meet tomorrow at my place, six o’clock?
She texted about thirty minutes ago. Nothing else. Not about her avoiding me or the game. Maybe she doesn’t know if we won or lost. Maybe she doesn’t care. She hasn’t wasted any opportunity to let me know how she feels about me and my soccer bros. But she’s talking to me again, and that feels like the biggest win of the night.
Me: Sounds good. See you then.
Chapter Nineteen
