“I’m saying I’ve only seen your daughter on a couple of occasions at the library last fall when she was with the other jersey”—I cleared my throat—“when she was with some other freshman and sophomore girls who like to study with the team.” Wracking my brain, I worked to remember this girl’s name.
“Penelope says you’re her child’s father, and she knows better than to lie to me.” The man’s angry eyes darted between his lying daughter and me.
Penelope. She was one of Tory Miller’s buddies. She hung out on the edge of the crowd, and I think I’d heard her say three words once: “Good game, Finn.”Why the fuck would she pick me to pin her pregnancyon?
“Mr.Walker, sit down.” As usual, Coach didn’t raise his voice.
After a beat “Walker” complied.
“In all my dealings with Mr.McCabe over the past four years, he’s never lied to me either.”
I let out some pent-up air.
“However, someone in this room is lying.”
“I’ll volunteer to take a paternity test. I’ll even pay for it,” I said.
Penelope’s face turned ashen.
I had no idea what I was thinking when I turned to her and asked, “Out of curiosity, when did we do the deed?”
“McCabe,” Coach interrupted. “Don’t be crass.”
“My future is on the line, here, Coach.”
“Homecoming,” she whispered.
Well, that made it easy. I had an entire group of witnesses to back me up. Still, I pressed her for more details—details I hoped would prove my innocence. “Where? Where did we hook up?”
She stared hard at the floor, her voice barely audible. “In the back seat of your pickup.”
“I don’t know what your game is here—Penelope, right?”
Her head snapped up.
“But I don’t need to pay for a paternity test since I can’t possibly be the father.”
“Watch yourself, mister. You’re calling my daughter a liar, and as we’ve already established, she doesn’t lie to me.” Walker flexed his fists between his knees.
I felt sorry for the girl, but not sorry enough to give up my life to save her from whatever she was lying to cover up.
“To be crystal clear, we hooked up in the back seat of my truck. You’re sure it was my truck?” I asked.
She nodded. “It was your truck. You flirted with me during the bonfire and we went back to the parking lot where you’d parked. One thing led to another, and now here we are.” She spoke as though she was on autopilot—or had memorized her story.
Coach’s expression didn’t change, except for a slight narrowing of his eyes, telling me he’d heard what I heard.
“It happens that my truck is parked in the lot right now. How ’bout we go out there and you can point it out.”
“That’s not necessary,” Walker growled.
“No. I think it is,” Coach said.
He stood from behind his desk—the cue for the rest of us to do the same. Being polite, I gestured for the Walkers to precede me out of Coach’s office. As we neared the front of the facility, I saw my friends waiting near the doors. Their expressions of curiosity morphed to concern as they clocked the pregnant girl walking between her dad and Coach with me in the rear.
“Finn?” Chess said as I neared her.
I gave her a subtle shake of my head, and my insides twisted at the hurt I saw spring into her eyes.
