Five minutes later, we sat there watching the game and munching on popcorn. It was honestly the most peaceful I’d felt in a long time. I wasn’t struggling for an internet connection, no one was shoo-ing us from Benny’s, and no one (aka my dad) was insulting my skills when comparing me to different players as we watched. We were just watching the game as fans and enjoying the Callahan’s amazingly comfortable couches.
Until I heard the front door open, that is.
I immediately snapped my head toward the noise. I felt my body jump into game state– what I called that heightened feeling when your fast-twitch muscles were ready to pounce.
When I looked over at Sav and Duke, they were both still enjoying the game on the TV, completely oblivious that someone might be trying to break into theirhome…
I think sometimes people don’t understand the pressures that come with being a teenage guy… Like I know everyone has it hard, probably way harder than me, but I always felt this insane pressure to already know how to protect…
I looked over at Nick, and he was alert and facing the sound from the entryway of their house as well.
And then, like a bad dream, a hulking guy came stalking into their kitchen. He must’ve been around 6’2 and was shaped like a football lineman.
I stood up, and sensed Nick across the room doing the same.
“Dad!” Duke called out happily.
I felt a relieved breath punch out of me with that word.
But wait, fuck. Savannah’s Dad? Why did that make me so nervous? I stood up a little straighter, trying to appear taller, waiting for him to look at us.
When he did finally turn and peer into his own living room, he looked taken aback by the sight of us standing there.
“Who are you two?” He motioned to us. My heart beat wildly in my chest. How had this situation turned so fast? I felt whiplash from jumping from protective mode to now feeling like an intrudermyself.
I cut my eyes to Sav, looking for help, but she was laser-focused on the game.
“I’m a friend of Sav’s,” Nick pointed to himself.
That made him angle his jaw out and look Nick up and down, unimpressed. He leaned back against their kitchen island and crossed his thick arms in front of his body. Damn, the guy had an impressive build. He could snap Nick in half. He was a surgeon? He looked like he should be suiting up to play for the Vikings in the NFL.
“And you?” he said, nodding at me.
“Uhh,” I swallowed and cleared my throat before speaking up. “I’m a friend of Duke’s.” I pointed to him on the couch.
He looked at me for a beat, then finally cracked a smile.
He pointed his finger at me and narrowed his eyes at Nick. “I like his answer better.”
For some reason, that felt like a demand aimed at Nick… like Nick should revise the way he was thinking about his daughter.
“Where’s Mom?” Duke asked.
Their dad busied himself in the kitchen then, seemingly making something, before answering. “She’s still working. She’s in a long operation, so I’m making some dinner and bringing it back for her. We’re both sick of the hospital food. How’d the game go, Duke?”
I saw Savannah cringe at that question.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Duke said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pissed.
I hoped he wouldn’t mention our part in his game, but his dad just brushed over it. “That sucks, little man, sorry about that. How’d your math test go?”
“Good. Only got one wrong,” Duke responded as he climbed up the back of the couch to face his dad. “Seven times eight,” he said, sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth.
Mr. Callahan absentmindedly rubbed his head while looking for something in the fridge. “Well, that’s good. Proud of you, buddy. That’s always a hard one.” He pulled some milk out and faced his son. “You know it now at least?”
“Yeah.” Duke sighed. “Fifty-six. Claire made fun of me for not knowing it,” he mumbled and then turned his eyes back to the Boston College game on the tv.
“Claire, Craig’s youngest daughter?” Mr. Callahan laughed.
