Page 231 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Instinctively, I wrap an arm around her and turn her away from her parents.
“That’s not what your mother was saying,” Dr. Jones rushes.
“Yes, it is,” Tabby sniffles, slouching against me. “I’m not the daughter she wants.”
“Tabby,” Mrs. Jones says in a shattered tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”
But I’m no longer listening. I walk Tabitha away from her parents, and I’m stunned neither of them tries to stop me.
“I’ll never be enough for her.” Tabby’s fists curl and her jaw hardens. “The only good thing I’ve done is bring you around, because then she has another boy to fuss over. She can’t stand me because I’m another version of her.”
“Are you saying your mother is jealous of you?”
“It’s a messed-up concept, and she’s a messed-up parent.”
I wrap my arms around her and kiss the side of her head. “Sorry, Tabby.”
“Don’t be. You’re the only good part in this whole mess.”
I pull out of the hug and lift her chin. I smile at the two-toned heart on her cheek. “Since when did you get so fanatical? I didn’t take you for a school-spirit girl.”
“It’s nothing compared to Corbin’s face. It’s entirely blue. One half navy, the other royal blue.”
“Whoa. That’s intense.”
Tabby sighs, scratching at the painted heart. “Mom talked me into it. She kept saying, ‘all the girls paint their faces, why don’t you?’ I didn’t have the energy to argue that those are the girls trying to date the footballers.”
I nod at the formation of cheerleaders, revving up the crowd. “Like that pack of airheads?”
“Precisely.”
“You never tried out for the cheer squad?”
“Umm, I’m barely coordinated at dance class. I don’t think my mother could stomach the humiliation.”
“Did she make cracks at you when you went back to dance class?”
She shakes her head. “Barely. She’s too preoccupied, making sure I know my place for the upcoming society meeting.”
“Seriously? But that meeting is at Jamie’s cafe. That place is the opposite of snooty.”
“Not one of Mom’s considerations.”
When the game officially starts, I hold Tabitha’s hand and slouch against the fence with her. “You need a distraction from talking about your mom.”
“But then I’m stuck thinking about how my dad wants us to break up.”
I frown at her, and she hunches, watching the game unfold. I only half pay attention. It’s a very showy sport, and sometimes all the spectacle makes me drift off. It just doesn’t grip me like the strategy and speed of a soccer match. Throughout the game, Tabby and I people-watch, and I let her make snidecomments about people’s outfits, purely in hopes she’s forgetting about her parents.
When the buzzer sounds at half-time, the crowd in the bleachers is still cheering for Freddy.
“Wow, he really is Mr. Popular,” I joke, barely audible over the surrounding noise.
Tabitha nods, side-eyeing the cheerleaders.
“Are you okay?” I sling my arm around her shoulders. “You’ve got that look on your face like you’re gonna go full mean girl.”
She flinches, snapping out of it. “Oh, no, sorry. No, I was just listening to what they were cheering. I don’t know if Freddy would like it or not.”
