“Okay.” I stepped in for one of those diagonal shoulder hugs,to try and keep my sweat and grass stains off him.
Dad kissed my forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” He held on to my neck and looked into my eyes.
And then he said, “I love you, son.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
He let out this tiny sigh.
“See you at home?”
“Yeah.”
I headed for the lockers. Chip was still talking to Trent, but as I walked past, Trent said, “Right between the legs, huh? Guess you’re used to that.”
Chip gave Trent a little shove. “Hey, man.”
Trent shrugged. “Later, D-Cheese.”
I stared at them both for a second.
Chip looked down at his feet.
“Whatever.”
THE SPORTSBALL-INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX
It was pretty much the quietest bus ride ever. Even the rumble of the engine seemed muted by the fog that had descended over the team after our first loss.
I let that goal past me.
My fault.
I slumped down in my seat and pulled out my phone to text Landon about the game.
No answer, though. He was probably in rehearsal.
I hugged myself and stared out the window. The afternoon sun had turned into a golden dusk, more beautiful than it had any right to be.
I wiped my eyes with my cuffs.
“Hey.” Chip sat across the aisle from me. “Darius?”
“What.”
It still stung, how Chip had just stood there and let Trent make fun of me.
But that was what Chip Cusumano always did.
“Scooch over.”
I wanted to tell him no.
I wanted to tell him to go find someone else to bother. Someone who wasn’t D-Bag, D’s Nuts, D-Breath, D-Cheese.
I wanted to be alone.
But Chip hopped across the aisle, and I scooted closer to thewindow to let him onto my seat. Our thighs rested against each other, but he didn’t seem to mind.
