He puts the case down on the table beside the bed and takes a seat next to me. “That financial plan your friend Ben worked out is gonna help us pay off our debts in the next five years, if I’m sensible, which I will be. It means I can stay away from all that shit that got me into trouble, that gotyouhurt.”
“Evan, how many times do I have to tell you it wasn’t your fault? And those dicks are being punished for it. I just wish they could be punished for what they did to you, too.”
He drops his gaze, like this wasn’t the reaction he expected and I realize he’s showing me this empty weed stash so I can be happy for him. Or so I can see that he’s changed. But I already knew that. I take his hand.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Psht, I don’t need you to say that.”
“Yeah, but you want me to.”
He laughs, shaking his head.
I lean in to kiss him when the door swings open.
“Jesus, don’t you knock?” Evan throws a pillow at the door, but Stacie blocks with her incredible reflexes.
“Ma said you two better hadn’t be doing anything she wouldn’t do up here.”
Evan snorts. “What does that even mean? Get out of my room.”
“Hey, don’t talk to her like that.”
Stacie puffs her chest out when I defend her. It’s our little thing.
“You don’t understand what it’s like to be siblings. This is our love language, isn’t it Stace?”
“No, you’re just a dick.” She slams the door with a big grin on her face before another pillow comes flying at her.
“That was childish.”
“Yeah well, you’re in love with me, so what does that say about you?”
I push him back on the bed. But like she’s got x-ray eyes or something, Stacie shouts through the door, “I mean it! No hanky panky in there!”
“Oh great, I don’t think my dick’s ever gonna get hard again.”
I pretend to smother him with a pillow while I grind against him.
“Um, so what’s that?”
His voice comes out muffled. “Shut up.”
EPILOGUE
Evan
Nate said there are never any spectators in the stands, but this is regionals, and people’s parents have come out in their nice clothes to watch their kids play tennis under the sun.
Ma and Stacie are sitting next to me in the stands, ready to cheer Nate’s team on.
I see Nate’s Ma and stepdad walk onto the court, stopping to say something to his coach. His stepdad shakes the guy’s hand before saying something to Nate.
Nate smiles and nods. Fuck, he looks good in his fancy-ass, Ivy League tennis clothes. I’m not even embarrassed about having a thing for frat boys anymore—scratch that—having a thing forafrat boy.Myfrat boy. He’s wearing some off-duty polo with the college tennis logo and a pair of beige chinos with his tennis shoes. He might not be able to play for the rest of this season, but they still expect him to represent the school. He is still a part of this team after all. And he wants to be here to support his friends.
Ben looks up into the stands and waves at us. Stacie waves back with the little Princeton flag Ma bought her at the college store. When we were in there, Stacie got talking to the girl working in the store about athletics programs, and now she’s thinking about applying for a hockey scholarship here. I still don’t like the idea of her playing that crazy dangerous sport, but if it gets her to Princeton? Yeah, maybe I could get behind it.
I’ve been brushing up on tennis rules over the past few weeks, watching matches with Nate of his favorite players. I now know the names of at least three famous tennis players—though I’m not promising I can pronounce them all. The doubles stuff is what I’m shakiest on, but I at least understand when the ball goes over the net and when it’s completely out.
