Page 230 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“This is bringing out your competitive streak.”
“I always win when I put my mind to something.”
“And what if you lose?”
I shake my head. “Not an option.”
“Tabitha?” Mrs. Jones’s voice calls out.
We turn toward the field and find Tabby’s parents walking toward us.
“Hi, Mom and Dad,” Tabby stammers awkwardly. “You remember Kai?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Jones cheers. “So good to see you again.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Dr. Jones cuts in. “What are you doing here, Nelson?”
“Dad,“ Tabby scolds.
Dr. Jones stares at our linked hands. “I thought I told you not to see this boy outside of school.”
“It’s a free country,” I blurt. “And besides, this is aschoolactivity.”
Dr. Jones’s nostrils flare and his teeth grit.
Tabby rolls her eyes, and her hand grows clammy inside mine. “It’s not like his presence will make the team lose.”
Dr. Jones is steamed. “Why on earth would you say that?”
Mrs. Jones chuckles. “Tabby, you can’t be flippant like that. You know how superstitious your father is on game days.”
“I thought you were a man of science,” I say, looking the doctor up and down. “Being superstitious doesn’t sound like it should be one of your defining traits.”
Tabby sends me a petrified look. Perhaps I stepped too far over the line?
“Boy,” Dr. Jones seethes. “You’d better get far away from me.”
I gulp. No comeback on my tongue.
“Dad,” Tabby says softly, stepping in front of me. “He’s just curious.”
“Tabitha, you’re joining us in the bleachers,” her father orders. “Yes, it is a free country, Kai. So you can stay here if you wish. But I’ll be damned if you’re joining my family.”
“Dad!” Tabby whines.
“Andrew,” Mrs. Jones says soothingly, rubbing Dr. Jones’s arm. “Do you need to be so harsh?”
“Did you not see what he did to our daughter’s hands?” Dr. Jones questions his wife.
“Kai didn’t do that,” she replies. “It was Tabitha’s clumsiness. She’s not exactly graceful.”
My chest puffs out at Mrs. Jones’s mocking tone. I want to give her a piece of my mind for speaking about Tabitha like that, but the parents are still going at it.
“She wouldn’t have been in the situation if it weren’t for this boy.”
“She’s always been uncoordinated. She’s no Yvette Andersen. Now there’s a girl a mother can be proud of.”
“What?” it gasps out of Tabitha as she clutches the space over her heart. “You’re not proud of me?”
