Page 80 of Unforgettable Player

“Come on, let’s go to your dad’s, check he’s okay, then have an X-Files marathon. Who can be sad with Mulder looking all sexy and nerdy?”

I manage a little laugh at that. She smiles before slinking back to her own seat. She eyes me one more time before clicking her seatbelt back into place and putting the car into drive.

I ignore the state of disrepair the house is in as I let us in and Scout starts storming straight toward my dad’s study.

I hear her bossing him around in there while I find some plates for the pizza we grabbed on the way.

Scout stomps into the kitchen moments later, my dad trailing behind, looking like a mole who just came out of hibernation. He glances at me reluctantly before glancing away.

“Take a seat, Mr. B.” Scout pulls out a chair for him and he obediently sits.

She talks on while we eat. Dad picks at his pizza, chewing like it’s made of concrete. While I watch him, a ball of something unfamiliar builds in my chest. I love my dad. I want to help him. But why can’t he do this for me? Why does it take Scout to get him out of his study? Why can’t he care enough about his son to sit down and have a meal with him?

Scout yaps on, dragging the occasional hum and nod from my dad. When he’s eaten a slice of pizza, he pushes his plate away and stands from the table.

“You’re really going back to your study?” I blurt before my brain can catch up. I feel Scout still beside me.

Dad blinks, looking at a spot just above my head. “I have an article due at the end of the week.” He swallows and winces.

Taking in a shuddery breath, I stand and pour a glass of water and hand it to him. “Drink this.”

He studies the glass before taking it with a small nod. “Thank you,” he mutters, before turning and walking out of the room.

Scout is behind me in a second, putting her hands on my shoulders.

“Come on,” she says. “It’s Foxy Mulder time.”

Halfway through the episode where Mulder and Scully are trapped in a scientific outpost in the arctic with an anger-inducing parasite, a text comes through from Connor.

Can I see you tonight?

I lock my screen and put the phone in my pocket.

“Who’s that?” Scout asks around a mouthful of cookie.

“No one. Just a notification.”

She nods. “Is it definitely a no-go with Gabe? You guys seemed like you were getting along okay at the arcade.”

I swallow, my hands getting clammy. “We’re just not compatible.”

“Even for a summer fling?”

“Yeah.” I hate not being able to tell her everything. Her suspicions have obviously been roused. We usually dissect every conversation I have with a guy if things go wrong, or if someone new has shown an interest. Scout never gets bored of me talking about some guy I’m dating or want to date. But I’ve been weirdly vague about Gabe.

She turns to face me on the lumpy couch. “Did something happen? Because I’ll kick his ass if I have to.”

I smile. “Nothing happened. He’s just pretentious, in a really cringey way. It gave me the ick.”

She snorts. “Fine, say less.”

My lie was convincing. I’m getting good at lying. Gross.

18

CONNOR

When Scout comes home and tells Mom and Dad that Eli’s staying at his dad’s tonight, I tell them I’m going over to Brad’s before driving to Elliot’s house. My skin is tingling. My advisor emailed me back, enthusiastic about me coming back to school and forwarding a response from my old coach about how happy he’d be to welcome me back to the team. I called Damien Rogers and discussed signing a contract at the end of the season if I was still interested in playing in the ECHL after graduation. Left a message with my boss in California to call me back and an agent Damien gave me the number of to ask about representation. It’s all really happening. There’s just one thing I need to do to stop lying to myself about who I am and what I want.