Page 133 of The Last Guy On Earth
He gives an approving nod. “Go Badgers.”
“That was a lifetime ago,” I say wearily. “I wouldn’t go back there. I’m thinking of looking at Boulder.”
“Really?” Clay says with unguarded interest.
“They have a sports management program,” I mutter, because it’s hard for me to talk about this. It’s hard to share mybig ideas when I don’t know yet what’s possible. “I’m just looking into it. Not sure what they’re looking for on an application.”
“Please,” Kaitlyn says, forking up pancakes. “They’d be lucky to have you.”
“Did you know we work with that program?” Clay asks.
“What? No.” I shake my head. “All I’ve done so far is read their website.”
“Yeah, we take five students a season. As interns.” He winks.
“Dude.” I snort. “I’m not going to be yourintern.”
“Why not? You already know how I take my coffee.”
“But think of the scandal,” my sister says. “We can’t have a scandal.”
There’s laughter all around, but Clay’s is the loudest.
After brunch, we say goodbye to the rest of the Powers family. Clay gets a back-slapping hug from his dad that leaves him red-faced, and a lingering hug from his mom. “Don’t be a stranger,” she says to both of us.
So, yeah, that could have gone worse.
“Well,” Clay says, as we watch them drive out of the complex’s parking lot, “it feels like I had to win a championship to get my father’s respect. But I suppose he’s just mellowing.”
“I’m mellowing,” I point out. “It happens.”
He shakes his head. “It’s stupid that I care.”
“It isn’t.” I know this for a fact because I also spent years wondering why my family couldn’t just be normal.
“Thank you for coming out with us,” he says, turning to me. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
“I don’t do easy,” I remind him.
“Look, I’m going to Uber it into Denver to get my car,” he says.
“I could drive you.”
He shakes his head and lifts his chin toward the door of my building, where Toby is emerging. “I think you’re needed elsewhere.”
“Uncle Jethro! Where’ve you been? I gotta show you my new game.” He comes running towards us.
“Hey! I’m sorry. I had some things to do after the game.” I give Clay a sideways glance, and his blue eyes gleam with amusement.
Toby stops at my side. “Hiya, Coach. Thanks for making my hockey cards more valuable.”
“You’re very welcome. I can probably get you a signed jersey for your memorabilia collection. You could put it up on your wall or sell it on Ebay. Your call.”
“Hey, thanks!” he says brightly. Then he turns to me. “Come on! This game is the coolest.”
I reach out and ruffle his hair, and he doesn’t even squirm. “All right, I want to see this thing. And then we’re going to plan the rest of our summer together.”
“Cool.” He reaches out and grabs my hand.
