He’s never going to invite me anywhere again. Why can’t I keep my mouth closed?
Mr. Wild’s mouth hangs open as he stares at me. Maybe he’s in shock. He even picks up his soggy sandwich and bites into it. Matt frowns and looks at his father almost like he’s waiting for the backup, but none comes.
Dylan leans over and kisses my cheek by my ear. And he whispers, “I love you.”
I put my hand on his leg and use my other hand to pick up my sandwich.
I’ve forced down about two bites when I feel Matt’s eyes on me again.
“So, Jasalie.” He grins at me creepily.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“You’re not from Montana, are you?”
“I was born in Arizona but I grew up here,” I say. “L.A.”
“A native?” Matt raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t think there were any of those.”
I nod and go back to choking down my turkey and Swiss.
“Oh, Dylan,” Mrs. Wild says. “Uncle Irv’s been asking for you. Wondering when you’ll be back in Montana again.”
“How is he?” Dylan asks.
“Not good,” Mr. Wild says. “Not good at all.”
Mrs. Wild wipes away a tear. “He’s not long for this world, I’m afraid.” She starts to cry for real. “Poor Irv.”
I glance at Dylan, who says to his mother, “Damn. I was planning to see him in a few days. I’m going up to Montana to see Brayden and the guys.”
“Doubt he’ll be around much longer, buddy.” Mr. Wild sounds halfway normal for a moment. “He’s hanging on by a thread.”
Dylan frowns, but the moment is broken by an unpleasant sound coming from Matt. I have to look over at him to realize it’s a laugh. He’s playing with his tomato, rolling it along on his plate like a wheel. When he lets go, the tomato topples onto its side and Matt takes his fist and smashes it into his paper plate until juice goes everywhere, including into his father’s food.
Mr. Wild doesn’t admonish him, though.
“Matt honey, eat your sandwich.” Mrs. Wild smiles at me brightly.
Maybe she’s embarrassed by Matt’s behavior. I can’t really tell what she’s thinking. I smile back awkwardly and reach for my sandwich. If I can just finish eating, we can get out of here.
“Hey, Dylan.” Matt turns to him abruptly. “Dad and I saw you on TV last night.”
“Oh, yeah?” Dylan says, not sounding enthused.
“Yeah.” Matt laughs. “Bloopers. That time you were sacked last season against San Fran. Remember?”
Mr. Wild perks up. “You went right down on your ass, boy,” he says as he gives Matt a high five.
Dylan’s relationship with Dante is making a lot more sense. I put my head on my hand, wishing Dylan and I were as far away from here as possible.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The drive back to Dylan’s house is awkward. He’s quiet, and I don’t know what the hell to say to break the ice. Finally, as we pull into his driveway, I can’t stand the silence anymore.
“Why didn’t you tell me the whole story about your family?”
Instead of answering me, Dylan turns off the engine, and we step out of the car and walk inside his house.
