The lust coursing through me gelled as I balled my hands into fists. “Get your ego out of your pants and think for once that women have equal rights.”
That got him to step away with a scowl. “So if you can’t show Coach what you got, you’re going to the school board?”
I hadn’t thought about that, but he had a good idea. I lifted a shoulder.
“Do you really want to make a spectacle of yourself?”
“If I got it, why not flaunt it? Besides, it might bring down all those egos on the team.”
A muscle jumped along his jaw. “I’ll make you a deal. You lay off the football, and I won’t spread the word on who your mom really is.”
I squinted at him as though we were standing in the bright sunshine. Reagan might’ve put the puzzle pieces together and blabbed to him, Elvira, and others. I’d always found it amazing how rumors spread so quickly through high school. The problem was my mom’s identity wasn’t a rumor.
My mom cleared her throat. I swung my gaze to her, hoping she could read my mind.A little warning before you enter a room.
“Did you happen to speak with your father?” Mom asked.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll call him now. Excuse me.” Train went out onto the porch.
“What is going on between you two? Are you dating?” Mom asked in a singsong voice.
I gently pushed Mom into the family room. “Shh. No. He’s an ass.”
“A handsome ass, Montana. And he’s so polite.”
All fake.“He’s mad because I asked the football coach if I could try out.”
My mom’s red lips opened, her jaw almost slamming on the white carpet. “Since when do you play sports? Wait. You need to get your grades up. And what about a job and art classes?”
“I am taking an art class as one of my electives.”
“Montana Smith, you are not playing football. You’ll get killed when those boys tackle you.”
I was hoping that Train would tackle me, but at that moment, I wanted to show him that girls could do what boys could do. “You sound like the football team.”
She gave me one of her mom expressions with tight features and lines fanning out around her eyes. “They’re right. You’ll get hurt.”
Footsteps clobbered into the house. “Excuse me,” Train said. “My dad is making a few phone calls. I’ve got to run, but I’ll call Montana when I hear from him.”
“Does he have your number, honey?” Mom asked me.
I swiped Train’s phone. If it weren’t for the dire need of cold air, I wouldn’t be punching in my number on his cell. When I was finished, I shoved his phone into his chest.
A barely there grin emerged. “It was nice meeting you, ma’am. Montana, we’ll talk soon.” Then he waltzed out with a swagger that I wanted to punch holes in.
I huffed. “I’m going to my room.”
“It’s okay to like a boy. Not everyone will break your heart like Nikko,” Mom said, raising her voice as I climbed the stairs.
I could return with a barb about one of her boyfriends, how she’d gotten hurt a time or two, and that she should consider a steady man in her life. But I wasn’t one to give advice. I’d only been hurt by Nikko. Still, a broken heart hurt, and I understood why my mom saved her love affairs or giving her heart away for the pages of her books.
I dodged one of the unpacked boxes as I threw myself onto my unmade bed. The cool breeze from the ceiling fan did nothing to relieve the anger that was burning my insides. Train had the gall to threaten me. I wanted to know how much he knew about my mom.
Then the blood rushed to my feet. Maybe Train did know, which was the reason he’d been sexually forward downstairs. And if he thought I was easy because my mom wrote erotica, then others at school would think the same thing. It wouldn’t be the parents I would be worrying about or my mom’s reputation. It would be my reputation on the line. With an entire school year ahead of me, I wasn’t certain how I would handle the backlash of boys ogling or asking me out just to get laid. Sure, I was all for a date here or there or a one-night stand, but I didn’t want to be dubbed a whore. I was beginning to understand why my mom wanted to protect me and my social life. I should find out what Train knew about my mom. Then Mom and I could prepare for any onslaught of rumors.
I got up, retrieved my phone from the clothes-infested window seat, then texted Elvira for Train’s address. I imagined she was the one who had given Train my info, so she shouldn’t mind returning the favor.
Within a minute, his address was on my phone.
