I laugh. “If not, he deserves it.”
Connor laughs too and the sound makes me smile.
A thought comes to mind. I close the book and look back to Connor. “Why do you guys call each other by your last names?”
He squints for a moment. “I guess it’s because that’s what Coach calls us.”
“Why does your coach do it?”
“The last names on the back of our jerseys are the only way he can tell us apart when we’re on the field.”
I guess that makes sense.
“Found it!” Drew yells, football held high above his head.
“It was nice to meet you, Gretchen,” Connor says over his shoulder as he heads back to the yard to join Drew.
A little while later, I’m still reading. Drew and Connor are still tossing the football, but they’re not running plays anymore. Instead, they’re lobbing the wildest passes they can come up with. Most of the time they end up laid out in the grass, either from diving to make a catch or laughing so hard they can’t stay on their feet.
I have my nose deep in chapter ten when the football bounces on to the porch beside me. I lean over the armrest of my chair to pick it up.
“Little fish, right here,” Connor says. He smiles at me, hands up ready for me to throw it back to him.
Little fish.The nickname makes me grin. Nobody outside of my family has ever given me one.I like it, except for one thing. “I’m not little.”
He twists his lips like he’s thinking. “Okay, how about just Fish then?”
Connor stayed for dinner tonight.Mom and Dad spent most of the time talking football with the boys and asking Connor about his family.
I didn’t say much but I listened a lot.
His family recently moved here from a nearby smaller school district to give him a better chance at a football scholarship. He and my brother met at the first day of football camp earlier this week. He has two older brothers: one who’s three years older and begins college this fall and the other who’s five years older and is about to start his senior year of college. He said since it’s only him and his parents now, it was easier to make the move. Something about downsizing, although I’m not sure what that means.
But my favorite part of dinner was Connor calling meFishwhen he asked me to pass the parmesan cheese.
Chapter Twelve
IT’S THE MOST PAIN I’VE EVER FELT
Connor
“I already havedinner reservations for tonight.” Forty-five minutes into the two-hour drive from Phoenix to Sedona, Gretchen finally speaks. “It’s some place my mom found online. I thought it’d be nice.”
“I’m sure it will be,” I say, checking my blind spot to change lanes. “What kind of restaurant is it?”
“A steakhouse, I think. They have a dress code, but I know you probably packed in a rush so we don’t have to go if you?—”
“Drew told me. I’m all set.” I chance a quick glance her way and only manage to catch her gaze briefly before she looks away.
“Oh. Well, okay. Good.”
Silence consumes the car again, the hum of tires over pavement grating like nails on a chalkboard. Gretchen’s intent gaze is locked to her passenger window, fingers knotted in her lap. It takes everything in me to not reach across the console and grab her hand to reassure her that, despite everything, I’m still her friend.
At least, I want to be.
It’s too early to force an unwanted conversation, so I roll my neck to relieve some of the tension and turn up the volume on the radio. Not five minutes later, Gretchen’s asleep—head on her hand, elbow propped on the window.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it free and see Lauren’s name flashing on my screen. On a quiet sigh, I silence it and drop it in the cupholder.
