The coaches’ significant others were less prone to be quiet about their feelings. I watched as they spoke over each other and made unnecessary jabs to bruise egos.
“God, is that actual gold?” Axe’s wife, Nancy, gasped when she got a look at Kramer’s watch. His wrist was covered in a gaudy gold piece that looked like it was straight off the set of a rapper’s music video. “Interesting choice. Quite… excessive.”
“To a pre-season dinner?” Bill joined in with a laugh that disturbed his resting baby. He didn’t notice the dirty look his wife shot him as she patted the crying child’s back. “What are you saving for the finals?”
“Finals?” Kramer’s wife, Torrance, retorted. Everything about her, from her bob to her jawline, was sharp and attentive. “How presumptuous of you. Last I heard, your star player was on probation.”
The attention was diverted to Weston, who wore a calm look. He flashed Torrance a smile I’m sure made her stomach flutter. Married or not, Weston was the type of guy who was never overlooked. It was a gift that he knew how to use to his advantage.
“Rumors are harsh beasts,” he said. “Always growing. Changing.”
Axe looked at Weston with the type of gaze I used to receive from my father when I failed an exam. Those kinds of looks usually ended with pain once my father and I were in private. I shuddered at the thought and took a sip of my water to remind myself I was here, not home. This wasn’t home. I was safe.
“Weston’s going to be on the field,” Axe informed us after taking a few bites of his fish. “No kid with his kind of talent is going to sit on the bench. Someone would have tobreakhim to keep him out of the game.”
I frowned and looked around the table. No one seemed concerned by Axe’s phrasing. I caught Bill nodding with a smile on his lips. The whole dinner, he’d barely taken his eyes off Weston and me. I thought it might have been because of my skin color. Our liberal college often talked, but rarely walked. Now that I looked closer, Bill’s focus was simply on Weston.
He looked like he wanted to say something and kept glancing at his phone like he was waiting for a call. His wife noticed his fidgeting. She shoved their baby into his arms just to get him to stop.
Torrance scoffed. “Interesting. Do you extend that kind of leniency to all of your players?”
“Torrance,” Kramer warned his wife while covering her hand with his.
“Just the ones that show promise on and off the field,” Axe told her. He shot Weston a look. This time it was worse than a failed exam stare. I could feel Weston shifting. He nudged one foot out from under the table as if he was getting ready to bolt.
“Promise,” I repeated in a voice so steady it almost didn’t sound like my own. They all looked at me as I continued, “He is a great student and really creative, too. Have you seen some of his designs?”
Nancy made a noise of surprise. “Weston designs?”
I glanced over at Weston. His cheeks were red and he sported a bashful smile. I regretted bringing it up. He rubbed his thumb across my knee to assure me he wasn’t upset.
“Weston’s always been naturally talented,” Bill piped in. “Willing to try anything.”
Weston cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, football’s not forever.”
“No, it’s definitely not,” Axe agreed. “Which is why it’s good to make connections. You hear that, Cami?”
I nodded, not correcting him. Weston did it for me, but Axe dismissively waved his hand as if we were in the wrong about my name.
“You should learn from Weston.” Axe jerked his thumb in Weston’s direction. “Our star quarterback. He’s rough around the edges but knows when to smooth out. The kid really knows how to keep his crowd entertained.”
“Definitely,” I pretended to be inspired by Axe’s dry advice. “Weston’s admirable, that’s for sure.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Torrance grumbled.
“Actually,” I said quickly and glanced at Weston. “I think it’s time for us to meet up with some friends?”
Weston didn’t need to be hinted at twice. He placed the napkin in his lap on the table. He’d been fidgeting with my skirt underneath the table so I was happy to be able to provide him an excuse to bolt.
“We have some people to see,” I explained. “Before the game tomorrow. They want to wish him luck.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Nancy gasped. “You should stay for dessert. Or, at least order some to-go.”
I shook my head. Weston butted in with a smooth lie, “She’s not into sugar.”
“On a diet?” Nancy nodded with an understanding look.
I almost laughed at the thought, but quickly swallowed it and nodded with her. “It was nice meeting you all.”
