Page 26 of The Tomboy

I shook my head. It had been eight days since I’d heard from Phoenix, since my last phone call to him. He’d cut it short, saying he was in the middle of physical therapy. But at 8:35 in the evening? I doubted it very much.

He’d been curt and irritated, and it had hurt my heart so much that I was being a chicken and now awaiting his call. Yep, I’d wait for Phoenix to reach out to me. Because then I’d genuinely know that he wanted to talk.

“He had a set back,” Mom said, sending a surge through my body. We hoped Phoenix would be back at school by now, but there was a murmur that it was likely Homecoming.

“What kind of set back?” Dad asked, a green bean dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“A chest infection. They’re worried about it turning into pneumonia.”

“So, he’s not home yet?” Dad gulped down the bean and stabbed at another one.

“No.” Mom set down her fork and reached for her glass of wine. “Poor Laura.”

Gripped by a flash of rage, I echoed her words in the most sarcastic tone I could muster. “Poor Laura?” My pitch rose several decibels.“Poor Laura?”

Mom and Dad’s silence spurred me on. “Poor Lauragot a cut on her head and a sprained ankle.Poor Lauraisn’t learning how to walk again.Poor Laura’stennis dream hasn’t been shredded to bits.”

“Max,” Mom said in that annoyingly composed voice again.

“No!” I said defiantly. “How can you have any compassion for that woman?How?”

“Max, of course we support Phoenix. One hundred percent, we do.” Mom’s cheeks were flushing, probably from the wine. “But you have to feel for Laura. This isn’t easy for her.”

“It’s not easy for any of us,” I snapped. “Least of all Phoenix. I swear, if you feel one ounce of sympathy for that woman, that’s it. I mean it.” They were words spoken in pure outrage, containing no substance really. Of course I wasn’t about to reject my family, but it was the sentiment I was trying to get across to them. Laura Carter deserved nobody’s pity or kindness. In my eyes, she was akin to the devil incarnate.

“How’s the steak?” Mom asked as Dad chewed on a piece of meat. He nodded in appreciation.

And that was that. End of the conversation about Phoenix and his mother. It kind of seemed that because Phoenix wasn’t home yet, he didn’t really exist. We could brush aside his issues until he returned. Then we’d address things fully. At the moment, Phoenix may as well have been on a one way trip to Mars, out of sight, out of mind.

Dad brought up Mrs. Jacques’s garden box again, and Mom had a lot to say about a house in Maple Drive that they were marketing. I swallowed my food as fast as was possible without choking, then left to go back to my room. At least googling tulips was distracting.

But really, I was no better than Mom or Dad or anyone else. By researching all the bulbs, I was avoiding Phoenix. I was a complete hypocrite.

But my actions were way worse than theirs.

Because I was supposed to be his best friend.

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The knock on my doormade me close my laptop in a snap.

“What?” I barked.

“Hey.” Clay strode in to my room, seemingly ignorant of my grouchy mood. “How’s it going, bro?” We slapped hands and bumped shoulders in a show of brotherly affection. “I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” My tone was more pleasant now. Clay had been back for a few months now, and I liked having him here. The four year age gap between us meant he headed for college when I was in middle school.

“I’ve got a full coaching schedule tomorrow,” he said, and my heart jumped. He was going to ask me to help him again, and I didn’t want to because the girls tennis team were playing their first game of the season and I had an inkling I’d swing by and watch. Taylor, mainly. But why? She brushed me off every time she saw me. She’d come to the track this morning, tolerated me as we ran side by side, but made it blatantly clear she didn’t want me to join her for sprints. I’d slunk away with my tail between my legs.

“Taylor’s playing her first match, and I wondered if you could watch, take some stats for me,” Clay said.

“Stats?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Sure.” My cool reply belied my racing heart. Watch every shot Taylor played for coaching purposes? I was in, all in!

We sat on the end of my bed while Clay made me download an app and specified all the things he wanted me to look for. I nodded enthusiastically.

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