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“I heard from Leo that your team is not good.”
I could kill him.
I stuff my mouth with food so I don’t say that aloud.
“Why don’t you just focus on school, like your father and I said?” She glances around at her kingdom. “Help out at the restaurant like your brothers.”
“But it’s okay if Leo plays hockey?”
Her lips set in a tight line. “Well, he’s good at it.”
“And I’m not.” I don’t stop eating, because this isn’t the first time I’ve been lured with food into this exact conversation.
“I didn’t say that.”
I take a sip of water. “Why don’t you come watch me play, then?”
“It’s all the same.” Mom waves a hand. “Stick waving, punching. Everything moves too fast. I get dizzy. It’s boring.”
“How do you know if you’ve never seen a game?” But I have a very strong feeling I know the answer already.
She confirms it, saying, “I saw Leo play last week. It was enough.”
This time my stomach closes shop. I set the silverware down and wipe my hands with a napkin.
Alessio is the only member of the family who has watched my games since I was a kid. The rest couldn’t care less. But now that he’s moved out of state—and Dad’s still pissed about that—I have no one in my corner. Not even my own mother.
“So you’ll go watch your grandson’s game, but not your son’s.”
She reels back, as if realizing only from my mouth what her own words mean.
“Massimo, don’t be such a child.”
I give her a stupefied look. “But I am one. Your child, to be precise. Who, by the way, is three years younger than the grandson you keep fawning over.”
“I do not fawn!” Her shout turns heads, but in a second, the customers go back to eating.
I toss the balled-up napkin onto the table and stand. “Tell Alessandro thanks for the food.”
“Massimo, stop this second.”
I don’t. She won’t leave the restaurant during peak hours, so she doesn’t come after me.
And isn’t that the theme of my life? I’m the unexpected error they still don’t know what to do with. Mom was forty-eight when she had me, way past what everyone thought possible. My three brothers were all adults. In fact, Cossimo Jr. had already had Leo, my parents’ first grandchild.
That’s why I’m always the last in line. Getting reminded of that today, of all days, is like pouring a pound of salt on a paper cut.
I climb back into the truck and collapse against the seat. I run my hands through my hair and pull at it. A weird laugh bubbles from my chest.
In a way, I should be thankful to Mom for the reminder. Showing my nephew up is what I need to focus on, not trying to find someone to give a damn about me. Life’s shown me time and again that that’s just not gonna happen.
I fasten my seat belt and set the truck in motion toward a franchise pizza place.
CHAPTER 16
LUZ
For two nights, my dreams replay the kiss between Max Cassiano and me.
