“Of course it did. She got him hook, line, and sinker.”
“But she didn’t like the music?”
“Hated it. But played the game until they broke up.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Dude, I don’t know. My point is that girls do crazy shit for guys they like. They play games. Games with layers. Serve it.” He gestures to the ball in my hand, so I do. I start another round for us.
I’m not inclined to believe him, but what if he’s right? What if Jessie likes our dynamic so much, likes our game so much, that she wanted to sort of…add this as a layer? It certainly keeps me on my toes. And if I’m being honest, it’s kind of hot. It’s like we have this little secret we’re not telling anyone else, not even each other. She obviously didn’t tell her best friend if they went to The Row to search for me. Maybe she thinks it’s hot to keep it a secret too.
The idea that she likes me is enough to distract me, and I play my worst game ever. Brody wins by leaps and bounds because my mind is elsewhere, circling the drain. Is it a game? And if it is, how do I know how long to play if we don’t eventually talk about it? We can’t do this forever—mostly because I wouldn’t want to. If I could have kissed Jessie again tonight, I would have. I want to kiss her again. And take her on a date and get to know her outside of the academic context. The door wasn’t really open for any of that before, but now I’ve stepped a foot over the threshold, and I don’t really want to go back out.
CHAPTERSIX
MAC
I’m going to need more champagne.
I probably shouldn’t have taken such a large sip for the last speech, but it was the fourth speech tonight, and it was lengthy, and I’m going to need more than baby sips to get through the rest of this evening.
I gesture to the waiter on standby for our family. We’re in a private room at our family’s favorite Italian restaurant in Lancaster. They know us here. We come often and always pay for the private dining suite on the top floor of the restaurant. Despite the fact it’s an hour away from my parents’ home, this is where and how the Baldwin family celebrates.
The waiter tops me off just in time for Amelia, Michael’s fiancée, to stand. Mom, Dad, and my other two brothers, Rob and Noah, have all given speeches, and I’m hoping this is the last one so I won’t have to speak. Amelia smooths out her wrinkle-free dress, clears her throat, and launches into a speech about how proud she is of her fiancé and how she can’t believe how lucky she is to be marrying a Baldwin.
I bite back a joke. Time and place and all that.
We raise our glasses. Again. Michael thanks his fiancée, giving her an entirely appropriate kiss, and we all drink for him. Again.
I shoot back my champagne as if it’s something a lot stronger and pray this is the end of the speeches.
“Mackenzie, did you want to…?” My mom leans over, nudging me with her elbow.
“Nah, I feel like the last five speeches really captured it.”
I know she won’t accept that for an answer, and she doesn’t, elbowing me until I stand. Everyone turns to me as if they knew I’d stand to give a speech too. It’s part of the whole song and dance of these dinners. Almost everyone gives a speech. It’s our time to honor each other, Dad likes to say.
I grab my water glass, wishing I hadn’t finished off my champagne. “Best for last, huh?”
Everyone smirks, and I wink at Amelia, who shares a smile with me and then with Michael. He gives me an approving grin.
“All I have to say is, what took you so long, you lazy piece of—?”
“Mackenzie.” My mother cuts me off. My brothers cackle. I crack a smile. I don’t bother to look at my dad. He doesn’t usually like my jokes.
“I mean, seriously, if it were anyone else, they would have at least won the Super Bowl before quitting.”
Everyone at the table is giggling now except my parents, although my mom is giving me a good-natured smile. My dad forgot how to smile in the sixties.
“And Antarctica, really? Is it because no other continent wanted you? And by the way, that only applies to Michael. Amelia, the President of Antarctica probably called you personally to come down, so obviously that comment wasn’t for you, sweetie.”
She blushes, and she and Michael share another adoring smile. Rob and Noah are still snorting with laughter.
“Look, personally, I’m glad you’re going. It means more Christmas presents for me.”
“Hear, hear,” Noah says, raising his glass.
“Okay, but seriously, congrats. I have a lot to live up to.” I gesture to all my brothers now with a middle finger, landing on Michael. “So, thanks.” I lift my glass. “To the second-favorite Baldwin son. We all know I’m the first.”
