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14
KACE
"No way," Maddy said, her eyes going wide at me. "You played that game?"
I kicked back on the couch, putting my feet up on the coffee table. "I played the fuck out of My Sim World, dude. Before I came out as a kid, I loved making gay guys in that game."
"Naturally," Maddy said, grinning.
"But I also loved building houses in it, too," I told her. "To be honest, I built a lot of houses in it that kind of look like the one we're in right now."
“Whenever I built houses in that game, my dad would look over my shoulder and be like,that’s not up to code! The HVAC will never work in this layout! These people are in for a disaster!”
I hummed. “Your dad is such a dad. I mean that in the best way.”
I watched Maddy sink onto the couch across from me, playing with the strings of the hoodie I lent her. Her eyes were the exact same as her dad's, with long lashes. Their eyes had the ability to make them seem like truly kind people, before you'd ever even spoken to them.
I’d called the TV crew and told them we wouldn’t be filming today, knowing that the last thing Maddy and Nathan needed today were cameras in their faces. The Fixer Brothers had been out working on the guest house all day while Maddy and I hung out inside, playing video games, watching a couple of shows, and relaxing. Staying with Maddy had turned out to be much closer to hanging out with a friend than babysitting. She was only a handful of years younger than me, and while I couldn't share a beer with her yet, it turned out we had plenty to talk about.
"In that game, I ended up making all of my characters play piano all day. Or cook the best foods," she said, twisting the string from the hoodie. "It was really relaxing, especially when my parents... you know."
I lifted an eyebrow. "When they were doing it?"
She made a face like she was puking. "They split up long before I could ever overhear that, thank God. I meant when they were fighting. They tried to hide it, but I could tell every time Dad took phone calls out in the backyard that Mom was probably screaming his head off."
Her eyes changed when she talked about her parents fighting. She looked down, her expression dull, like she’d given up trying to feel better about the topic long ago.
"I can't imagine anyone yelling at your dad, to be honest," I told her. "It would be like kicking a Golden Retriever."
She glanced back up, giving me a little nod. "My dad is a total dork, but you're kind of right. I don't think I've ever really been angry at him."
The sun was dipping lower toward the horizon now. I looked past Maddy to the windows, where the backyard was cast in a late afternoon glow.
"Your dad loves the hell out of you," I said. "I've only known him for a little while, but it's clear that he lives for you."
She made a face. "Right. That's why I feel like even more of a piece of shit, though."
"Why?"
She held her hands up in the air. "Because I do dumb things and then wind up wasting his time. And now all day today I've wasted your time too, and I just..." she trailed off.
"Hey. This has been the chillest day I've had in months," I told her. "Do you know how often I get a true, full day off? I mean, I'll work out and post some shit to Insta later, but I'm on cloud nine. Don't sweat it, Maddy. And your dad definitely understands."
She gave me a sweet look, even if she didn’t seem entirely convinced. "Thanks, Kace."
"Don't sweat it."
"I feel like if you were at my school, instead of, like, a famous football player, we would probably be friends," Maddy said.
"We’re friends already," I said. "I also want you to feel free to text me if you're ever in a sticky situation and you need help. I think you should feel just as comfortable texting your dad, to be honest, but I know how it can be with parents."
She nodded. "Exactly. Sometimes I'm just so damn embarrassed. Like, I do bad stuff or get wild sometimes, but it feels like Dad's never done a wild thing in his life."
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, thinking about the long list of wild, unexpected things that I'd been doing in secret with her dad. But I sure as shit wasn't going to talk to her about that.
“He’s cooler than you think,” I told her. “Promise.”
She snorted. “Well, he certainly thinks you’re cool, too.”
