Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“Yup. Drank plenty of water.”
I wanted to do well for them, to be as good as my brother.
I jogged out to the field and got in formation at the line of scrimmage with renewed vigor. And then practically tore up my shoulder as I clashed with an offensive lineman in a way-too-animated tackle. I was an idiot and proved nothing except that I didn’t have enough poise to dominate on the field. And this was why I would never measure up to Brody.
Staring at the sky from the position on my backside, I was too embarrassed to look anywhere else but at the trainer checking my shoulder.
“I’m okay,” I said as he helped me sit up.
“Save that kind of energy for the game,” Coach warned, obviously knowing I was trying too hard.
Some of the band members had gathered, watching, including Emil. He seemed concerned, as did my parents, who were now standing. When I got to my feet, I gave everyone a small wave to let them know I was fine then finished practice without issue.
As the guys went to the locker room, I made a beeline for the fence, where my parents were waiting. “What a nice surprise. What brings you here?”
“We won’t be able to make it to Parents’ Day this year, so we thought we’d join you for dinner.”
Parents’ Day was an annual event for families to visit campus and interact with professors and students. I’d hoped they’d be able to learn more about the sports-medicine department. For them to see I was serious for a change. Oh well.
“Why can’t you make it?” I tried not to sound too glum.
“We have the annual fundraiser for the troops overseas. There’s just too much to do.” The fundraiser started the year after Brody died. It gave my parents something to put their energy into.
“That’s right. Guess I forgot.” I’d helped every single year, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was relieved that my parents hadn’t expected me to attend either year of college since all our games were on Saturdays.
“How could you forget? It’s every fall.” There was underlying frustration in Dad’s reply. “The date this year just happens to coincide with Parents’ Day.”
“Sorry, kiddo,” Mom said, her tone more sympathetic.
“No worries. That’s more important.”
“I knew you’d understand,” Mom replied, and I looked away.
“As far as grabbing dinner,” I said, “some local businesses started Food Truck Tuesdays if that sounds good to you.” I toed a rock. “Unless you want to leave the grounds?”
“No, that’s perfect,” Dad said.
“Okay. Just let me change.”
“Take your time. We’ll stroll around campus and meet you near the dorm.”
I couldn’t take my time, not where they were concerned. I always felt on edge around my parents.
I rushed through a shower and a change of clothes, then started walking toward the dorms. I was surprised to see Emil standing near the steps with my parents.
“That was fast,” Mom said as I tried to tame my panting breaths. “Emil filled us in on the happenings around campus.”
What else had he filled them in on?
I was reading too much into it, clearly. He was only being friendly. No way he’d give away any of my secrets. Not when we’d become each other’s confidants.
“Emil was also telling us about the performing arts program.”
“And you’re in the marching band too?” Dad added. “What a busy schedule you must have.”
“Yeah, he’s always practicing or studying,” I joked.
“You could use more of that,” Dad said teasingly, but I knew that was, in fact, an intentional reminder to apply myself harder.
I averted my eyes when Emil shifted uncomfortably.
“Bruce is busy too. And he definitely studies hard,” Emil said, having my back, and though I was thankful, God, it just felt even more awkward.
“Glad to hear it,” Mom said, gently patting my shoulder. “By the way, you seem to have recovered well out there.”
“Yeah, no big deal. Probably just bruised,” I muttered, then changed the subject. “I’m famished. Want to eat?”
“Will we be able to sit outside?” Dad glanced at the clouds. “Or is rain moving in?”
“Let me check.” I rolled my wrist to look at my smartwatch, which had been a gift from my parents to help keep me organized. “Oh shoot.”
“Did you lose your watch?” Mom asked, noticing my bare wrist.
“I must’ve left it in the locker room. I’ll grab it later.”
Mom frowned as Emil punched something into his phone. “It’s not supposed to rain until after midnight.”
“Thanks for that,” I mumbled.
“No problem.” Emil waved as he turned toward the steps. “It was nice seeing you again. Enjoy your dinner.”
“Join us, Emil,” Mom’s voice rang out.
He glanced over his shoulder. “No, I shouldn’t—”
“It’s better than the diner food,” I argued.
When he met my eyes, I gave an imperceptible nod. I could use the interference.
“True. Sounds good.”
We walked toward the curb just outside the university gates, where the food trucks were lined up. We ordered tacos, then found a place to sit at a picnic table near the student center.