Page 213 of On His Team

“Mom.”

“What?”

I grin. “I have a girlfriend.”

Gianna starts laughing. She blushes.

“Gianna, right?” my mom says.

I nod and look at G. “You told her?”

Gianna shakes her head. My mom says, “No. I just could tell in the lobby.”

“Lobby,” I scoff, shaking my head. “She’s been my girlfriend for four days now.”

Gianna raises her eyebrows, bumping Lucy. “He’s counting the days.”

My mom laughs, and I look at G. She smiles at me.

Stanley, from somewhere behind us, says, “This is beautiful.”

I ignore him.

Later, after everybody settles, my mom ends up on the couch beside Gianna looking through clinic pictures on her phone. I watch them together. My girlfriend has met my mom and dad.

They’re laughing at whatever G said, and my dad is drinking a beer at the island with Benson.

Stanley is still trying to convince everybody he had something to do with my goal. It all fits together too easily. It looks normal. I sit down on Gianna’s other side.

She glances over. “I was just telling your mom about my clinic.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

She looks at my mom. “Your son is funny.”

“He is,” my mom replies.

I look at them both. “Boy,” I whisper.

My mom and G look at each other and laugh like they have an inside joke already.

Saturday morning is worse. Senior Night is not until night, which gives the entire day too much time to exist.

Breakfast at Hawthorne is louder than usual because parents are everywhere. Benson’s parents are here. Stanley’s arrive late and bring enough food to feed the entire house. Tate’s family stops by. Faulkner’s mom apparently knows mine from youth hockey, which starts a conversation about a tournament in Wisconsin I barely remember.

Everybody keeps saying the same things.

Last one.

Last home game.

Can’t believe it.

I stop responding after a while because the reality is crazy.

At two, I go upstairs and sit on the edge of my bed. I’ve lived in this house for four years. This room has been mine this year because one summer, Percy decided to move his room downstairs. I didn’t mind the change of scenery.

My first year here, I could barely lift my arm above my shoulder without pain. I spent that season watching everybody else play and telling myself it counted because I was still here. Then the next three years happened fast.