“Braden, how’s football practice?” Brock asks.
“Same as always,” he mutters, looking at his phone.
“Put it away,” Brock says, referring to the phone. “You know the rule.”
“The rule that applies to everyone but you?” Braden puts his phone down on the table. “Fucking ridiculous.”
Brock takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his thick dark hair. He’s embarrassed by his sons. They’re being disrespectful, but I’m starting to see why. How do you respect a man who’s never around and yet claims to be a great father? Whenever I’ve seen him talk about his kids in interviews, he goes on and on about how close he is to his sons and how he loves doing stuff with them.
My uncle’s a liar and a fake. Maybe that’s why my mom didn’t want me around him or his family. She didn’t trust them. In the short time I’ve known them, I don’t either.
“Did Braden tell you about the football team?” Brock asks.
“No,” I say, glancing at Braden. His eyes have wandered to the waitress taking an order at the table next to us, another gorgeous woman who looks like she should be a model, not a waitress. Probably another wannabe actress.
“Twisted Pine is one of the top teams in the region,” Brock says. “The only school around here with a better record is Legion High.” He grips Braden’s shoulder. “But Braden’s determined to change that this year. Isn’t that right, Braden?”
Braden shoves his dad’s hand off his shoulder. “Like you give a shit about football. You don’t even go to the games.”
“Son, that’s not fair. I can’t help it if my work schedule doesn’t allow me the time to attend your games.”
“By work, he means Hollywood parties,” Braden says to me. “Or taking his girlfriend to Palm Springs.”
Brock looks at me. “He’s being dramatic. I’ve been to his games. Just not all of them.”
“What position do you play?” I ask Braden.
“Quarterback,” he says, sitting up straighter. “Last year we almost took down Legion. We had a winning record until game five.”
“When they got the shit kicked out of them,” Trystan mutters.
“What happened?” I ask Braden.
“Probably shouldn’t ask him that,” Trystan says. “They’ll kick us out of the restaurant.”
“I can tell her,” Braden says to his brother. “I’m done being pissed about it. Now it’s all about revenge.”
“Braden,” Brock says in a warning tone. “Do I need to remind you about our agreement?”
“I’m not gonna fight him,” Braden says. “At least not outside the field.”
“You do something during the game, they’ll kick you off the team,” Trystan says.
“Fight as in win,” Braden says. “You really think I’m gonna risk getting thrown off the team for that fucker?”
“Quiet down,” Brock says, looking around. “And stop using that language.”
Braden shakes his head. “Another rule that applies to everyone but you.”
“So what happened?” I ask. “At game five?”
Braden looks at me. “We lost to Legion in the last few seconds of the game. We were ahead but they threw a long pass and made it to the end zone right before the timer ran out.”
“And now you want revenge because they won?”
“It’s not about the team. It’s abouthim.”
“Who?”
