AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, Sawyer, I remember you don’t like football. But maybe you could humor me and come to a game during what will probably be my last season.”
“Why?”
“Why come support your old man?”
“I mean why now? You haven’t invited me to a game in ages. Why the sudden change?” I hug my knees to my chest.
“I realized that I should have been inviting you all along because this is a huge part of my life and not inviting you essentially cut you out of it.”
My dad does not usually shock me in a positive way, but that’s possibly the most parental statement he’s ever made, and it’s so unexpected I don’t have a response.
“Sawyer, you still there?”
“I, uh, yeah I’m here.” I shake the cobwebs from my head.
“Good. So anyway, you could come early, walk around the facility, maybe even hang out on the sideline during warm-ups. You have to watch the game from the suite though. Interested?” His voice rises, telling me he’s proud of this idea.
I’m not interested, not in the least, but if he’s making an effort to connect I should too, even if it’s over something that he likes instead of something I like. It’s a start, provided he follows through.
“I…”
“Hey, I know. Bring that new brother of yours. He plays football, right? I bet he’d love to see a game.”
“He’s not my brother,” I say robotically.
“Whoa, my bad. Sorry, I thought you two got along great?” He backtracks, a tinge of panic in his voice.
“We do. But he’s still not my brother.” I try to soften my tone this time around so he can’t tell that thinking of Wes as my brother makes me angry.
“Okay, fine. Not your brother. Your future stepbrother then. Whatever. Wouldn’t he like to see a game?”
“Probably.” Though I still wish Wes didn’t love that stupid game, I accept that it’s important to him.
“Well, bring him. You guys could stay here the night before and we’ll all go to the game together.”
Weird, he almost sounds excited. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dad, but did you get a concussion in your last game?”
“Of course not, why?”
“Because you aren’t acting like you right now. You never invite me to stay over during the season let alone the night before the game, and I thought athletes believe it messes with your mojo if you don’t follow the exact routine before you play. If this really is your last season you don’t want to screw it up by experimenting with new rituals, right?”
“I never thought I’d live to regret showing you Major League,” he mutters under his breath.
“What?”
“You’re quoting a movie, Sawyer. I don’t believe in mojo and I don’t believe in rituals. I just realize I don’t have a lot of time left in this game, and I don’t want it to end without ever getting to share it with you. Maybe if I’d done this sooner you wouldn’t hate it, but it's better to try now, right?”
Going to a game I’ve hated for years is unlikely to change my mind about it, and he continues as if he heard me think that.
“I don’t expect you to suddenly like the game, I just want the opportunity to show it to you while I still can.”
Okay, nostalgic dad is starting to creep me out, but I think I get what he’s saying. If one ‘happy’ football memory for the two of us will make him feel better about his career coming to an end, I’ll suffer through a game. Besides, it will get me out of the homecoming dance the night before, which Hollie thinks our teammate Lucas wants to ask me to.
Lucas is nice enough and he’s not bad looking, but I have zero interest in him, and I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. If he does ask me and I’ve already got plans, I’d like to think that would spare us the awkward aftermath of me saying no. I agree to ask Wes about the game and hang up with Dad wondering how my life got to the point where I’m willingly using football to get out of a date I don’t officially have.
I’m lost in thought about going to a game with Wes when he gets home from his Saturday film review and finds me on the couch watching “The Bachelor.” Stupid fantasy brain made me forget to watch the clock.
“The Bachelor?” Wes frowns at the TV. “You hate football but like this?”
