Page 23 of Make the Play
Jason decides here and now, he and Emerson are going to be great friends.
“Hey, you want a Coke?” Jason asks, suddenly realizing Emerson doesn’t have a drink. Without giving him time to answer, because really, who doesn't need a drink with lunch, Jason moves to the corner to open his mini fridge. The sight inside reminds him he needs to go shopping because it is woefully understocked. Inside is nothing but two cans of Coke and a water bottle. He doesn’t even have any green apple Gatorade or juice left. He’s really gonna have to get better at grocery shopping. Especially if Emerson is going to be joining him for lunch again.
“You don’t have to,” Emerson tries.
“If I offered it, then it means I want you to have some, if you want it that is. I think if I ate a peanut butter sandwich without a drink I might die, just saying.”
“That’s improbable.”
“But not impossible,” Jason grins, waggling his eyebrows.
Emerson blinks, staring at Jason with a blank expression for several seconds before the corners of his lips turn up in a smile that transforms his face, brightening his features and making him look even younger.
“How old are you?” Jason asks. “Uh, sorry, was that rude? You just look kind of young.”
A pinch forms between Emerson’s pale eyebrows, lips turning down in a frown. “I’m twenty-six.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Jason hurries to clarify, worried he’s said the wrong thing. Hopefully, a little honesty can smooth it over. “I turned thirty last year, and I possibly have a little bit of a complex about it.”
“If it helps, you don’t look old,” Emerson offers, taking a bite of his sandwich. He chews slowly before adding, “probably because you dress like a teenager.”
Jason looks down at his slightly wrinkled Santa Leon High t-shirt and basketball shorts, barking out a laugh. “Guess I better not wear grown up clothes then, huh?”
There’s no big smile from Emerson this time, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he wants to and isn’t sure if he should. “You might end up looking thirty if you do.”
“That’s it,” Jason whistles, cheeks hurting from the breadth of his smile. “I’m throwing out all my adult clothes right now.”
“Is being thirty that bad?” Emerson asks. He criss crosses his legs in his chair, contorting himself into a position that Jason’s much larger body cannot comprehend. His eyes are on Jason, the eye contact suddenly intense.
“I mean in general, no?” Jason answers, aware he makes it more of a question than a statement. “I think it’s just like a combination of my baby brother getting engaged when I’ve been single forever and then, you know, being surrounded by teenagers all day. It’s silly.”
Jason reaches for the can of Coke and the water since Emerson never did answer, setting them on the desk beside him in a silent offering. “I never pegged myself as the kind of guy who would freak out at turning thirty but the last year was—weird.”
“Bad weird?”
“Some of it,” Jason admits, unsure why he can say that to Emerson but hasn’t been able to admit it to Theo or his brothers. Probably because they were all too deeply entangled in Alec’s recovery and the subsequent changing family dynamics with Alec and Theo’s relationship. His best friend and his brother needed him to be okay, like always. If occasionally he wasn’t, well it was easier for everyone, Jason included, to ignore that.
“Maybe I don’t want to be thirty then,” Emerson replies very seriously.
“It wasn’t all bad though,” Jason continues, as much for Emerson as himself. “But there were a lot of changes and I guess some of them got to me more than I want to admit. Getting back to teaching and coaching, back to my normal routine, has been good.”
“I’m not part of your routine,” Emerson points out.
“Not all change is bad,” Jason points out. “Besides, who says this isn’t going to be our new routine? Maybe you’ll be back Monday because you realize how winning my personality is, and if not that, you might be desperate for a soda from the mini fridge.”
“Pop.”
“Huh?”
“It’s called pop where I’m from.”
“Pop,” Jason echoes, emphasizing thep.
Emerson nods, reaching for the can of Coke. He cracks open the tab, waiting for the sizzle of carbonation to die down before he takes a sip. “Thanks. It’s not Dr. Pepper, but it’s good.”
Dr. Pepper.Jason mentally adds that to his shopping list, determined to start keeping some in his fridge. Just in case Emerson really does come back to have lunch with him again. It would only be polite.
When he looks up from his musings, he finds Emerson shaking his plastic container of Doritos before lowering two of his long fingers in. He pulls out a large, unbroken chip, but instead of eating it, he holds it out to Jason. “Want one?”
