“Physio must’ve been a bitch,” Matty says. “I had trigger finger last year, and the physio was a nightmare.”
“Yeah, his accident was exactly the same as your trigger finger,” Heather says, rolling her eyes.
“It was kind of brutal, yeah,” Jacob says.
Hunter takes a sip of wine. “Heather said you were living with your parents in the States?”
“Uh—yeah.” Jacob’s smile looks a little forced.
“They must be excited about your fancy new F1 job,” Erin says.
Jacob tears a piece of pizza crust in two. “Maybe,” he says. “I’m... not really talking to them right now.”
I look at him. I haven’t heard this yet. He hinted at how awful living with his parents was, but we didn’t talk about how they left things.
“Why’s that?” Heather asks.
Jacob hesitates a moment, looking around the table.
“Circle of trust here, babe,” Heather says. “Nothing leaves the island.”
He clears his throat. “It’s not a big deal. They just aren’t okay with the whole”—he waves a hand between me and him—“dating thing.”
“Oh yeah,” Matty says. “Travis told me they were being little shits at the hospital.”
I glare at Matty. “I didn’t use those exact words.”
“Didn’t have to,” he retorts.
“It’s fine,” Jacob says. “It’s not wrong.”
I can hear the tension in his voice. “Did something happen?” I ask.
Jacob glances at the others again. “Ah—sort of.” He lowers his voice a bit. “You know how you went to my house?”
“We all know about that,” Matty says.
“I packed his suitcase,” Heather adds cheerfully.
Jacob manages a tiny smile. “Yeah, well, my mother didn’t even tell me you were there. The neighborhood kids told me, and when I confronted her about it... it got kind of ugly.”
“Shit.” My stomach tenses. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Jacob says. “They... aren’t very good people.”
“They’re your parents, though,” I say.
“Yeah, but does that mean I have to pretend all the shitty stuff they say is okay?” He lets out a humorless breath. “My dad said dating you would turn me into a laughingstock.”
“Oh, hell no,” Heather says.
“Fuck that asshole,” Matty adds. “Seriously, that’s total bullshit. If you and Travis ever go public, there will be, like, a hundred million girls falling all over both of you. And a hundred million gay guys. And at least fifty million bisexual guys. Or are there more bisexual guys than gay guys? Hang on, let me Google it real quick.”
“I know it’s bullshit,” Jacob says.
“It still sucks, though,” I say, watching him closely. “You were always so close with your family.”
Jacob shrugs. “Was I, though? I feel like they were only happy with me because I never shared any of my actual feelings with them. Like, as long as I acted like this perfect cardboard cutout of a good son, they felt like we were one big happy family. I don’t think they ever really knew me at all.”
