Page 236 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“You didn’t need to touch Kai’s head.” Tabby clutches my forearm, explaining, “Drew’s allergic to cats.”
Freddy leans forward, grinning at me. “You’ve got a cat?”
“Hello?“ Drew complains. “Dying man here.”
Freddy waves him off. “You’re not dying, you’re sneezing.”
Dr. Jones watches Drew for more signs of an allergic reaction. “Do you have your inhaler with you?”
“It’s not that bad,” Drew responds.
“That’s not what I asked,” his dad says firmly.
Drew huffs and pats the pocket of his beat-up leather jacket. “I got it.”
Hmm. Cat allergies and asthma. That should make this guy less scary.
Drew reclines in his seat, cracking his knuckles. I then spy the chunky rings on his fingers.
Yeah, no. I’m still watching what I say around him.
“So, what kind of cat is it?” Freddy asks me, more interested in a feline than anyone should be.
“I dunno, ginger,” I shrug.
Tabby giggles. “Freddy’s a little cat obsessed.”
“Any animal,” Mrs. Jones says with her own melodic laugh.
“I like animals too,” Corbin pipes up. “Dad won’t let us have any pets.”
“Dad and Drew are allergic to anything with fur,” Freddy says lightheartedly. “It sucks.”
“Well, if my brother and the cat weren’t always glued together, I’d give him to you,” I say, half-joking.
“You don’t like the cat?” Dr. Jones asks, peering behind my eyes.
I flinch. “It’s not my thing.”
Dr. Jones watches me intently. “Looking after a living thing, isn’t your thing?”
Mrs. Jones whacks her husband’s arm. “Don’t put the boy on trial. He’s got other things to worry about.” She leans forward and smiles at me. “You play soccer, right? When’s your next game?”
“Tomorrow.” Please don’t offer to come.
“We should come and watch you,” she replies animatedly. “Andrew, wouldn’t that be nice?”
Dr. Jones checks his wristwatch as if the hours move into the next day. “What time is your game?”
“Uh,” I falter. “Midday.”
“He’s good,” Freddy adds. “He zips around the field, almost untouchable.”
Dr. Jones harrumphs. “Almost.”
Freddy laughs. “He got charged by some bozo. Bet you were seeing stars after that one.”
Dr. Jones narrows his stare at me. “Another concussion, I presume?”
