“Nowthatis definitely surprising. Jack? Parenting?”
“He had a lot put on his shoulders at a young age. I wouldn’t put too much stock in his flighty personality. I’ve always gotten the sense it’s just hiding what’s underneath.”
My nose wrinkles. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know…” She shrugs. “It’s just a feeling I have.”
I consider that, trying to imagine a world where flirty Jack Baker could bemorethan just the snarky nightmare that now lives across the hall from me. It almost makes me laugh just thinking about it.
“Anyway,” Christine says, breaking through my thoughts. “Finish your tea, and then tell me all about school.”
I smile, feeling a warmth in my stomach I’ve only ever felt with my own mother before she died. It’s justeasywith Christine—andthat fact is a miracle in itself, given that she has no reason to care about me at all. I can’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful that she’s chosen to do so.
“Right,” I say, taking another sip. “Of course.”
Distantly, I’m still kind of thinking about the fact that I have yet to tell Jack thank you for letting me stay, knowing that I’ll need to rectify that the next time I see him.
I’m sure that’s going to be oodles of fun.
When I get home, I’msurprised to find Jack already there; I guess his practice didn’t run as late as it usually does. I linger in the doorway for a moment, my resolve to thank him for letting me stay here wavering a bit in the face of, you know, actually having to do it. I can already imagine all the snarky things he’ll have to say about it, but I can’t just continue to live here without having told him I appreciate it. Because I do. Despite his ridiculous ways, Christine was right.
It was really nice of him to offer.
He notices me standing there as he turns from the microwave, nodding in greeting. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say back.
He cocks his head when I don’t move. “You playing a game or something? Why are you just standing there?”
“Oh, I…” I frown at myself. I’m being ridiculous. “No reason. Just lost in thought.”
He shuts the microwave door and starts pressing buttons. “Rough day?”
“You could say that,” I huff. I try for casual. “What about you? How was your day?”
His eyes round. “Are you actually asking me about my day?”
“Clearly a bad idea,” I grouse, stepping through the living room and dropping my backpack on the couch.
“No, no,” he laughs. “Just surprised me. For a second I thought you’d been bodysnatched.”
Am I really that much of an asshole to him?
“I was just trying to be nice,” I mutter.
“Nice is a good look on you,” he teases. “As for your question, it was okay. Practice wasn’t too long, so I was able to get out of there without a sore ass for once.”
“Why would your ass be sore?”
“All the spankings Coach doles out if we make bad plays,” he says matter-of-factly.
I blink back at him, unimpressed.
“Kidding,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Clearly.”
“Nah, everything fucking hurts after a long practice. Just part of it.”
