“Sure. My baseball career. Which you should be thinking about too.” He nods toward the bathroom. “She’s a distraction. Always getting upset about something—or nothing, more like it. You don’t need the stress.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I’d spent a large part of my time in college with Aurora, and she was different when it was just the two of us.
“It’s like I’m talking to myself. It’s fine, man. I’m not saying you won’t find someone someday.” He took a pull from his beer.
“True. Maybe someone will even come along and knock Foster Davis on his ass someday too.”
We laughed, and I looked up toward the door. Penelope was walking in with a few of her friends. I’m guessing my eyes stayed on her a beat too long because Foster followed my line of vision.
“Is that the coach’s daughter?” Foster asked.
I wasn’t surprised he knew who she was since Mark was coaching him, but I was surprised he didn’t know her name.
“Haven’t you met her?” I asked.
“A few times at team things, but I never caught her name.”
“Penelope.”
Aurora came out of the bathroom and slid onto the stool next to me. “What are we looking at? Oh.” She clearly spotted Penelope showing her ID to the bouncer. “Isn’t she, like, eighteen?”
“She’s twenty.” The words slipped from my mouth probably a little too fast.
“Oh yeah, I forgot you guys are, like, best friends.” Aurora said it with an edge, and I blew out a breath, knowing this was going to be the rest of my night.
A few of the Hartwell guys who’d come with Foster pulled Penelope and her friends into the group, razzing her that they were going to tell her dad, joking around. She laughed along with them until she stopped at our table.
“Decker,” she said, sounding surprised, which was funny since she was in my part of town. “Hey.”
Penelope hugged me, and I held on a second longer than I should have, aware of Aurora on the barstool behind me, but somehow even more aware that Penelope smelled like the same shampoo she’d used since she was fifteen.
This was the one problem that hung between Aurora and me. I wasn’t completely over Penelope, and I didn’t know how to process that. Especially since she’d never actually been mine.
“You look good,” I said, because it was the truth.
Aurora slid off the barstool and put her hand on my arm in the specific way she did in public, a display of possession rather than affection. “Hey, Penny.”
“Penelope,” she clarified, the way she always did on the rare occasion they were in the same room.
Foster gave me a nod to introduce him. He had surely seen her before, but it would be like Foster not to have paid much attention, especially if it was during a game or practice.
“Penelope, this is my brother, Foster. As you know, he plays for Hartwell.”
Penelope put out her hand. “Hi again.”
“Again?” Foster asked.
Penelope laughed. “Yes. I’ve met you, like, five times. Usually I’m with my dad though, and you’re distracted.”
Foster stepped closer. “I’m not distracted tonight.” He held out his hand. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Penelope laughed but took his hand, accepting the invitation.
“We’ll be back,” Foster said over his shoulder, and I watched them all the way to the bar.
The night wore on, and I stopped drinking at some point while Aurora continued. An hour after I was ready to call it a night, I couldn’t find it in myself to leave while Penelope and Foster were in the corner together, seemingly in their own little world.
Aurora was talking to someone. Foster was talking to Penelope. I was standing close enough to hear their conversation while pretending I wasn’t eavesdropping.
