Jake doesn’t move.
He doesn’t blink.
He just meets my father’s stare like a man who’s taken checks from bigger guys than this and stayed upright.
“I won’t,” Jake says.
My father’s mouth curls slightly. Not a smile. A warning.
“If you are just toying with her,” he continues, “if this is some kind of game, if you are using her because you can…”
My dad’s eyes narrow, taking Jake apart.
“You will pay for that.”
My stomach twists.
I hate this.
I step forward, voice sharp. “Dad.”
He doesn’t look at me, but Jake does.
His eyes soften just a fraction, like he’s telling me silently,I’ve got it.
My dad’s gaze stays on Jake. “Do you understand me, Morrison?”
Jake’s voice is controlled. “Yes, Coach.”
My dad nods once, as if he’s decided to accept this new version of reality.
Then he picks up his coat, straightening it even though it doesn’t need straightening.
He pauses at the doorway, turns back, and points at Jake. “I’m watching you,” he says.
Then he’s gone.
The door closes behind him, and the silence that follows is so loud it feels like the whole house is ringing.
15
JAKE
The Weight of a Lie
Coach Petrov’s taillights disappear down the driveway, and the silence he leaves behind is so thick it feels like it has weight.
Talia stands beside me in the entryway, her hand still in mine like she’s forgotten to let go.
I stare at our interlocked fingers for half a second.
Then reality catches up and she releases me like she’s touched a hot pan.
For a second we just stand there, facing the closed door, both breathing like we just ran sprints.
“Well,” she says, voice tight and too bright.
I turn my head slowly. “Well?”
