“On your face?” Adam asks.
Not helpful, Adam.
“I was carrying a lot and it just sort of happened,” I say, searching for anything else to take the focus off me. “It smells good. Is dinner almost ready?”
Adam holds up his spatula with a smile. “Almost.”
I brush past Mom, trying to avoid any more questions about school. I’m not a good liar, and I’m afraid if she gets me talking, she’ll learn the truth.
“What did you do today?” I ask, redirecting the conversation.
Mom spends the next few minutes telling me about her work day before Adam comes over to the table, carrying a plate loaded with hot dogs and burgers. He picks up the burger on top with a pair of tongs and sets it on a separate plate. “I used pepper jack for yours,” he says, putting the plate in front of me.
“Thanks,” I manage, even though part of me hates that he remembers little details like the type of cheese I prefer. I wish he’d ignore me instead of trying so hard.
“And there’s cheddar on the others,” he says, winking at my mother.
My stomach twists. I can’t help it.
Mom runs around the table making sure everyone has something to drink, then she runs back inside for mustard. When she comes back, she sets it next to the twenty million other condiments we have.
The rest of dinner isn’t bad, but when we finish eating,Mom stands to clear the table and leaves me alone with Adam.
Adam stirs in his chair. Then he pulls something out of his pocket and looks at me nervously. “I know you’re bummed about not playing baseball this season so I got you something.”
He sets three tickets on the table. Not just any tickets, though. They’re baseball tickets.
I want to throw up.
“I thought we could all go to a game together—”
“I’m too busy,” I say. I understand he’s trying to be nice, but there’s no way I’m going to a game with him. He’s already taken over everything else. I can’t let him have this too.
Adam scratches the back of his head. “Are you sure you can’t find the time for one evening?”
I shake my head, already out of my chair. “I’m really busy with homework. I don’t think I can.”
My head pounds and I need to go. I need to get away from the suffocating feeling I get every time we’re together.
Before Adam has time to stand, I’m already halfway into the house. I practically run up the stairs to my room. I close the blinds and sit on my bed, staring at my wall to clear my thoughts.
There’s a knock. “Can I come in?”
It’s Mom. She steps inside and makes her way over to me. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
She nods, sitting next to me. “You know he means well.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you could just give it a try another time,” she says.
There’s a picture of my dad and me next to my bedside table. In it I’m wearing his baseball cap and it half covers my eyes while he wraps me up in a hug. Baseball was our thing. Not Adam’s.
“Maybe,” I say, but I have no intention of ever trying to go with Adam.
“Thank you.” She ruffles my hair before leaving my room.
