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Even Jared and Tate and Jax and Juliet always showed up to support us. My dad is probably standing on the sidelines with Kade’s coach. I wonder which side he’ll stand on next Friday.
“You’re allowed to go say hi,” I tell Dylan, smiling a little. “If you want.”
The prisoner exchange isn’t all that serious. I’m sure her parents would like to see her.
But she’s quiet for a moment. “It’s okay,” she says. “The space is actually nice.”
“For your dad or you?”
She gives me a look. “What do you know?”
I face the field again, finally glancing at the scoreboard. “Just what my dad fills me in on during our weekly chats.” And then I paraphrase for her. “‘Jared won’t let you race, and sometimes he has trouble using his emotion words.’” She snorts, and I keep going. “‘And you’re just biding your time until you graduate, and he no longer has a say in what you do.’”
She shakes her head, but amusement is written all over her face. “Pretty much.”
I get it, though—enjoying the space. No talking at least means no fighting.
But the truth is, we’ve had it pretty good. Loving, two-parent households, and none of us are on drugs. There are hills to climb once in a while, but I’ve never felt like I was on my own, and I don’t think Dylan has ever felt like that, either.
“What do you think about it?” she asks. “My dad not wanting me to race motorbikes.”
I draw in a breath and meet her eyes. “I think your dad loves you and he’s scared for you.” I drop my eyes to her mouth, feeling my heart quicken. “And…you’re just as stubborn as he is, and you’re going to be really glad when he takes his place in your corner eventually.”
She looks away, her chin trembling a little.
“He’ll come around, Dylan.”
“Do you think so?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
The expression on her face relaxes, and she opens my driver’s side door, stepping on the hinge and stepping onto the hood behind me. She slides down the glass, and I rise up a little, letting her in as she fits me between her legs and wraps her arms around my stomach.
She hugs me. “Thank you.”
I lean back into her, and we watch the game in silence.
I guess I don’t have any room to give advice or to tell her that everything will work out when I didn’t trust that at all. I just left.
I shouldn’t have. I have just as much right to be in that house as Kade does.
“Do you want him to win or lose?” she asks me softly.
I swallow hard as I watch Kade get into position and turn his head in my direction, knowing I’m here.
I want to win.
Which means he’d have to lose.
That’s not what I want. I don’t want him unhappy.
“I always want him to win,” I tell her.
We watch as the fourth quarter moves on, and the Pirates lead forty-nine to thirty-eight with one minute left in the game. The Knights have the ball with first and ten, and even if they make a touchdown, it’s unlikely they’ll make two, even if the offense can get on the field again before time runs out. I watch Kade throw, a Knight sacking him, but I don’t watch the score or listen to the announcers.
And I only know the Pirates won when Dylan shoots her fists into the air, cheering.
“Whoo, whoo, whoo!”
