“I’ll perk up once I can retire,” Nathan mutters, though I can’t tell if he’s serious or not. I was under the impression that football was his whole life, so hearing that he’s actually looking forward to retiring catches me off guard.
“Well, I suppose you’re not getting any younger,” I say, and Poppy erupts in fits of laughter, choking on the water she just took a sip of.
“I get enough old man jokes from my team. I don’t need them from you, too.” I can tell he’s trying to put on a crabby tone, but it’s not quite reaching the baseline of his voice, and he watches me before sighing, running his hand down his face. His broad shoulders lean against the doorframe, body swaying slightly.
“Nathan, go to sleep. If Leo wakes up, I’ll handle it.” Poppy’s eyes soften.
“I told Evan I’d look after him. I only needed your help getting him settled. It’s not your responsibility, Pops.”
His nickname for her loosens my chest up.
She waves away his concern. “I doubt he’ll even wake up. The white noise should keep him knocked out.”
But Nathan doesn’t listen. Instead, he shuffles over to the cream-coloured armchair beside me and sits down. His fingers are inches away from mine. “I’ll wait and head to bed when I’m sure he’s sound asleep.”
“So stubborn,” Poppy murmurs, flicking the volume to the TV up a little and pulling a blanket over herself. “Did you really want to run through a routine, Mae?” She shoots me a perplexed look. “You seemed to have them all down in practice the other day. In fact, Sophia congratulated you for being so on point.”
I shrug. I’ve never been a great liar. My emotions are easily readable on my face, so I don’t usually bother being dishonest about my thoughts and feelings. “I know, I just—”
“Wanted to get away from your mom?”
I look at her, feeling like a deer in the headlights. “What makes you say that?”
The last thing I want to do is turn the cheerleaders against my mother. She’s built up a relationship with them, and I don’t want to be the one to shatter it. I’m coming into her space, and it seems wrong to shed light on how she treats me when it doesn’t concern or affect anyone else. It’s not like I’m staying anyway, and I don’t want to create any more issues between us.
I’d rather just forget about her.
“The way she looks at you,” Nathan suddenly says, and I whip my head in his direction. “It’s the same way she looks at me. Well, very similar.” His eyes are still glued to the television, but he’s looking through it. Not at it.
My mother tries to stay out of my way during practice. She doesn’t speak to me much, but when she does, she uses a tone that could cut ice. I’m always the first person she’ll point out during a bad run of a routine.
I’m out of line. My limbs are floppy. I’m off-beat. It’s always me.
Most of the time, I’ve performed the routine perfectly. She just loves to try to destroy my confidence.
I wasn’t aware that the cheerleaders had noticed—let alone the football players. Let alone Nathan.
“What’s her problem?” Poppy tucks her knees to her chest. “You’re her daughter, and it’s clear that—”
“You can’t just expect people to unpack their family drama with you, Poppy,” Nathan grumbles, but a sliver of interest is lingering in his eyes.
“I’m studying psychology. This is excellent research.”
“She’s not a project.” His tone is frosty, and my stomach twists at how he defends me.
Poppy’s not trying to intrude. She’s just an open book, and she probably doesn’t understand why others aren’t the same. In a way, it’s kind of refreshing. I’ve been surrounded by people who brush things under the carpet growing up, and it’s a habit I’ve picked up—an unhealthy one.
“It’s fine,” I say to them both, shrugging. “There’s not much to tell when it comes to my mom, though. She wanted her daughter to be a carbon copy of her, but I’m not, so she despises me. I got on with my dad much better than her, and she didn't like that because she’s a control freak.” I mentally wince at the final few words. It’s not something I should be saying openly to one of her cheerleaders, but I now consider Poppy a friend.
“Yeah, I gathered that. She’s a good cheerleading coach. I can’t fault her for that, but honestly, she doesn’t seem like the greatest mother. I’ve asked her about her family in the past, and she’s always shown no interest in talking about you.”
“Jesus Christ. You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nathan mumbles as he pinches the bridge of his nose at Poppy’s wording.
Her comment stings, but it’s not something I wasn’t expecting. I know my mother doesn’t brag about me.
I don’t go around singing her praises for being mother of the year, either.
Poppy pauses, biting down on the inside of her cheek. “Sorry. I think I analyse people a little too much. It comes with the degree. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”
