Page 245 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“Mommy,” Corbin calls out frantically.
Mom disappears back into the bathroom, and Dad turns to me. “It wouldn’t feel right to leave when he’s so sick.”
“I can go to the game on my own.”
“How are you getting there?”
Hmm. Still haven’t figured that one out.
Dad catches the uncertainty in my expression. “I’ll drive you, sweetheart.”
“What about Corbin?”
“I’ll be back to check on him. Besides, he wants his mother.”
I can just imagine Kai’s face when he sees I brought my dad along.
“Problem?” Dad asks.
I shake my head, still needing a ride. “No. I’m good.”
42
“Goodluck,Kai,”Grandmasays, pressing on my shoulder until I bend my knees so she can kiss my cheek.
I squint one eye closed as she tugs on my side. “Thanks, Grandma.”
Grandpa roughly pats my back. “You don’t need luck, sonny. You’ll knock ’em dead.”
I smirk at him. “You know it, Grandpa.”
I can’t help looking for Tabby before the game starts. When I’m supposed to run onto the field, I check my phone and find a text from her.
"We’re running late. Corbin’s sick."
I chuck my phone into the duffle bag, which lies near my parents’ feet.
Dang. I wanted Tabby to see me lead the team onto the field and win the coin toss.
At least the toss goes my way, and the game begins smoothly. Hopefully, Dr. Jones stays home with Corbin. My shoulders loosen at the thought of not seeing him today.
The team we’re playing is the only one we haven’t won against this season. Last time was a draw, and I’m not letting anything that humiliating happen again.
Dang, this team has been working on their skills. Their ball control is on point, and the speed and distance of their passes are stellar. No other team hashad me panting for breath so early into the first half. I fan out my shirt as I wait for someone to retrieve the ball after it leaves the boundary line. Gross. I’m sweating already. Once I wipe the clamminess from my forehead, I watch the other team pass square to a forward.
He’s mine.
To steal the ball, I slide out my leg. Anticipating me, the other player flicks the ball into the air. Basically lying on the grass, I watch the ball leapfrog over me, and then a sting of intense pain.
That ignoramus ran into my leg, kicking my shin.
I grind my teeth together, breathing through the pain, and hear hisses and grunts from the crowd.
Picking myself up, I scan the onlookers. My grandparents are cheering me on with stars in their eyes. Even though it’s a confidence boost, I avoid my parents at all costs. They’re still against me taking risks on the field. In a delightful twist, my gaze lands on Tabitha. Just when my heart is about to zing, my body shudders like I’m pressed against a speaker, playing death metal.
Standing next to my girlfriend, with his arms crossed and a stern expression, is Dr. Jones.
Crap.
