Patrick grumbles something under his breath, ignoring her question.
“Too many times for his ego.” Evan hugs my mom before heading straight for the kitchen.
Mom wraps her arm around my waist, walking through the house with me, her eyes on Ainsley ahead of us. “How are you, my love?”
“A little sweaty.” I press a kiss to the top of her head, glancing around the house. “Dad home?”
Her smile fades. “Yeah, he’s in the den watching TV.”
I lower my voice. “We won’t be too loud.”
She pats my back. “Don’t worry. Have your fun.” She swings open the refrigerator door, and pulls out two glass baking dishes. “Made lasagna today.”
“Hell, yeah.” Evan opens the cabinet and pulls out a stack of plates while Ainsley digs into the drawer for utensils.
We busy ourselves setting the table, and then Dad shuffles into the kitchen.
His blue eyes land on me. “I thought I told you not to play.”
My shoulders straighten. “We were just having some fun. It wasn’t an actual game.”
His eyes narrow. “Do you really think that’s wise? What if you rolled an ankle or worse? You’d be screwed for next season.”
The room falls silent, my friends shifting around as they pretend not to listen.
“Well, I didn’t.” I lift my right foot and rotate it to show him. “Both ankles in-tact.”
His lips press into a firm line. “Foolish decision, as usual.”
Mom pats his shoulder. “Let’s leave the kids alone and go back into the den.”
But Dad doesn’t budge, his eyes boring a hole into the side of my head as I turn away.
It’s better to accept the beating and get it over with so it isn’t looming over me. But my friends are here, and he won’t hit me in front of them. No, he hides his anger like the coward he is.
For now, I’ll get away with disobeying his orders.
For now, I’ll pretend like I have a normal family the way my friends do.
For now, I’ll enjoy my high school years before they’re over, and I’m on the other side of the country, as far away from my father as possible.
Ainsley nudges my shoulder with hers, bringing me back to the present. I glance down at her, and my stomach does a somersault. I stare into her hazel eyes for as long as she allows me to, before she glances away as her cheeks tinge a pretty pink.
Ainsley Morgan is a lot of things, and shy isn’t one of them. But the small smile she offers me is different than the one she gives Evan, or any of the other guys in our friend group. She’s beautiful, even all sweaty with her messy brown strands sticking out of her ponytail in different directions. She’s unlike any girl I’ve met at our school. Confident, honest, outgoing, she knows who she is and what she wants, and she isn’t afraid to take it. She doesn’t take shit from anyone.
She’s everything I wish I could be.
We take our plates out into the backyard, and I start up the firepit.
Ainsley drags a chair next to mine, and plops down into it, her long, toned legs outstretched in front of her. “So, your dad seems like a fun guy.”
A laugh tears from my chest as I squeeze my eyes shut, the tension rolling off my shoulders. “Yeah, he’s loads of fun at parties.”
She shakes her head as her smile fades. “Your mom’s so nice. How did she end up with a guy like him?”
I shrug, shoveling a forkful of lasagna into my mouth. “She says he was different when they were younger, but I don’t see how someone could just change like that.”
She tips her chin in Patrick’s direction. “I don’t want to know what kind of husband he’s going to be.”
