DONOVAN:Something about a basketball player who all the girls love?
CARRIE:Sorry, Donny. It’s all about the hockey players these days.
DONOVAN:Hockey players? They aren’t all that, trust me. They’re also super dumb because they keep getting hit in the face… What’s to like?
CARRIE:You’re not as convincing as you think, W!
DONOVAN:I tried!
It sucks that I’ll need to wait a whole two days before I see her. I try to focus on the book I just downloaded, but all I can think about is how hard it’s going to be to tell her I want her to be my girlfriend. Ineed to tap into everything she’s taught me—figure out the best way of doing this.
My phone buzzes. It’s Dad.
“So?” I start. “Amazing win, right?”
“You did an incredible job, son. The defense was a little patchy here and there, but you pulled together and made it happen. Conley looked good out there.”
“Yeah, Lewis is on fire lately.”
We run through the game together, the way we always do, picking each move apart, and I can’t wait for him to be back to his old self so he can watch us in person. Every time, I find myself still glancing over at the bench mid-play, my eyes searching the crowd for a glimpse of him. The guy replacing him is great, but the truth is, there’s nobody like Dad.
“By the way—your mom and sister are heading down for your birthday next week.”
Just like that, my mood plummets. My knee starts bouncing up and down, and when it hits the seat in front of me, one of the guys turns around and glares at me.
“How come?”
“You’ll be twenty-two, son. It’s a big deal for your mom. Plus, I’m guessing she’s coming to spy on me,” he adds. “Check I’m following the doc’s orders. If she asks, you make sure you tell her I’m the perfect patient.”
“Hey—your ex, your problem!”
“The girls wanted to watch the game on Wednesday, but it turns out they can only make it up on Friday morning because of Amelia’s classes.”
The girls? Sure.The truth is my sister would rather gnaw off her own arm than come celebrate my birthday.
I haven’t seen Amelia since July, and I’m already freaking out. What am I going to tell her? I suddenly feel exposed, like I’m not ready to show her who I’m becoming just yet. Have I changed?Reallychanged, I mean? And even if I have—so what? Why would she care? My heart flutters.Shit.
“Come for dinner on Friday,” my dad is saying.
“Sure.”
He clears his throat. “Anyway, go get some sleep. I’ll call you after our win on Wednesday.”
I stare back at my reflection in the window. There’s no getting out of this dinner, but it suddenly hits me—I could ask Carrie if she wants to come. I feel bigger when I’m with her. Better. I need the ego boost if I plan on confronting my sister.
“Can I bring someone to dinner?”
“Sure!” I can hear the smile in Dad’s voice. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone. I’m guessing it’s serious if you want us to meet her—your mom will be so excited!”
I don’t have the heart to set him straight.
“Speak later, Coach!”
“Speak soon, Captain!”
I hang up. I stare out the window, tapping my phone against my chin thoughtfully. I need a rock-solid plan to get Carrie to come to dinner at Dad’s. If I try to trap her into it, she’ll have zero hesitation about tearing me apart in front of witnesses. But if I suggest she come eat with my parents, she’ll laugh in my face. A real dilemma.
I STILL HAVEN’T FIGURED OUThow to invite Carrie to dinner, and it’s pissing me off. I pack away my books and hit the road, heading straight for her dorm, her bra tucked safe and sound in my hoodie pocket.
