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“Your dad told me when I called to ask permission to take you out tonight.”
I let the fact that he still asks for Dad’s permission even though we’re in our twenties slide. Learning about Dalton is more vital. “There has to be a good reason. He wouldn’t jeopardize his career.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t care about his career since he threw the first punch.” Bobby scoffs. “It’s pretty selfish of him, considering the team needs to win these games.”
“He really didn’t play?” I ask more to myself than Bobby. I sit back in my chair, defeated. Dalton missed performing in front of the scouts. I suddenly feel sick. I thought whatever fueled his anger was under control. He had been ducking into the outbuilding a lot, which I assumed meant he was taking his frustration out on the car. I guess I was wrong.
“Of course he didn’t play. Do you think your dad’s going to reward sinful behavior?” Bobby’s haughty tone boils my blood. He’s always so smug.
“There has to be a reason why he went off like that. Especially with everything riding on this game,” I quip.
“People like that are just bad. They don’t think like us. Their morals don’t line up.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about him or his home life.”
“And you do?”
I can’t exactly say yes, so I tap-dance my way around that question. “I’m just saying you’re making assumptions.”
“Having a hard life doesn’t mean you have to make bad choices. I just spent months in a desolate country. Now those people have a hard life, yet they’re choosing God.”
“No doubt they’re underprivileged, but a hard life is a hard life. It’s not a contest.”
He tosses me another condescending look. “We’re fighting over something hypothetical. I think it’s time to stop.”
I push to my feet. “Take me home.”
He sighs. “I’ll allow it for now.”
“That’s good because I’m leaving with or without you.” I don’t wait for a response and head toward the parking lot. I have to get my head straight before Dalton comes back home. I need to know why he would do this. I can’t imagine any reason behind sabotaging his chance at making a good impression or risking angering my dad. I’m equally surprised Dad didn’t send him packing.
When I reach the car, I fire off a text. Consequences be damned.
Me:This is Cassie. What happened last night?
Dalton:It’s a long story. Some guys from the other team were talking shit.
Me:Are you okay? I know my dad must be livid.
Dalton:I’m fine. It’s all worked out. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.
I take a relaxing breath for the first time since hearing the news. I hate that he missed having the scouts see him, but at least he isn’t leaving.
Me:Good, because what if I like keeping you around?
Dalton:Then I’m never leaving you ever again.
Warm fuzzies fill my chest. This is silly. He doesn’t really mean it. He’ll have to leave to go back to school. At the end of summer, we’ll go our separate ways. But this time is different than last. We have a way to communicate. I’m done leaving things to fate.
I lean against the car and wait for Bobby to come out. He’s more than likely paying for the meal. I suppose I should’ve paid for my half, but he wouldn’t have let me. He won’t let me break up. What makes me think he’ll let me pay for a meal? This is my second attempt to break things off, and he still thinks we’re together. I have to fix this.
For the entire ride home, I don’t say a word. I’m lost in my thoughts. When he pulls up in front of my house, I clear my throat.
“I’m not sure I got my point across earlier, but I’ll always consider you a friend. You got me through the hardest times in my life. But that’s all we’ll ever be. I can’t be your girlfriend anymore.”
His jaw sets hard. His eyes grow cold. I take that as his acceptance. I step away from the car. Right as I push the door closed, he mumbles, “My party will fix everything.”
He drives away, leaving me perplexed. What does he mean by that?
