Page 100 of Break Points and Face Offs

Dad pauses. “Maybe he’s ashamed.”

I snort. “Priestley Rosenthal doesn’t feel shame.” I stop short. Remember him telling me he was ashamed over the country club thing.

“I don’t believe that,” Dad says.

We’re both quiet for a second. He probably thinks he’s doing a bad job at this, that Ma would be better, but he doesn’t realize how comforting it is just to have him on the line.

“You must really like him,” Dad says.

“I do.”

“And it seemed like he really liked you.”

I scrub a hand over my face. “I don’t know. I thought so, but why the fuck—sorry Pop—why won’t he talk to me?”

“No point in jumping to conclusions. Sometimes the cat in the tree is just a cat in the tree.”

Somehow he manages to make me smile. “Was that a lame firefighter analogy?”

“I made it up on the spot. You like it?”

I laugh, imagining his warm eyes and comforting smell. “I miss you guys.”

“Miss you too, son. You okay?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “I’ll be okay.”

“You’ll figure it out with the internships. You’re smart, you’ll get something. I know you will.”

“Thanks, Dad. I love you.”

“Love you too, son. And hey, give Priestley a chance. Don’t rule him out until you’ve heard it from him directly. Okay?”

“Okay.”

PRIESTLEY

I hesitate before knocking on the door. This house was my home for years. There should be no reason why I’m nervous. But with everything I’ve learned recently, I’m not so sure I’m welcome here anymore.

I’m about to walk away when I hear a car pull up behind me. When I turn around, Nathan’s getting out of his SUV, his hair swept back from his face with a backward baseball cap.

He turns pale the second he sees me.

“Priestley, what are you doing here?” He fixes his expression into a tight smile, the kind we’d wear when the dean came to check up on us. “I mean, hi, good to see you.”

“Don’t panic, Nathan, it’s just a casual social call.”

“Oh, okay …” He rearranges his face into something less pained. “Great.”

“You need any help with that?”

The back of the car is full of grocery bags. Though I never took part in the big food shop at the fraternity, I know what grocery bags look like.

“Thanks, it’s for Ben’s birthday party.”

Ben’s birthday, right. How could I forget that?

I come around the other side of the car to help Nathan with the bags. “I can’t believe Ben’s turning twenty-two. I remember him as a wide-eyed freshman, terrified of everything.”