Page 115 of Hard to Score

“Drew.” My name is a warning from my father’s lips as his body starts to tremble, and by my mom’s quick intake of air, she noticed just as I did. “After everything that family has done to us? How could you?”

Hasn’t this been my dilemma? How do I confront him without damaging his health? How do I look at my idol and tell him I no longer believe him? Hasn’t this been what I’d been stressing over?

And now the moment is here. The rubber is about to hit the road. When I look at him, I feel all the love in the world but at the same time so much betrayal.

So much loss.

A decade of misplaced blame that makes no sense and yet happened.

“Answer me, son,” he demands as I take a step back.

“I think you’re the one who owes me answers,” I say quietly.

“Drew? Who is it?” Brexton asks at my back. The widening of my father’s eyes shows me he has seen her over my shoulder. The tendons in his neck strain and his whole expression freezes.

He stares at her long and hard. Studies her. Recognizes her.

And then he looks back at me with narrowed eyes and lines etched on his face like I’m the one who’s betrayed him. Like I’m the one who has hurt him. His mouth is in a tight line as his hands tremor. My mom clings to him with determination like if she squeezes his arm tight enough, this will go away.

“What have you done?” my mom asks, her voice barely audible but the accusation is there.

“Nothing, Mom. Absolutely fucking nothing, but try to live my life out from under the web of lies Dad spun around us.”

My dad’s chin trembles, and his eyes swim with so much emotion that I don’t know if he’s going to run or stay and fight.

Let’s hope he loves me more than the game of football. Let’s hope he fights for me.

“I did it for you.” My dad’s voice is all but a whisper, and I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want Brexton to hear or because he’s overcome with emotion.

“For me? You haven’t cared a day in your life about anything other than yourself, so don’t you dare turn this on me. Don’t you dare stand there and act so fucking pious. You turned our lives around because you were too goddamn weak to either fight for what you stood for or to admit you were at fault.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

BREXTON

MY HEART LURCHES INTO MY throat at the sight of a father and a son who look so much alike but who are at complete odds.

I can’t tear my eyes off Gary. The man I used to joke with, play catch on the beach with, and consider an uncle. He’s older now. The years haven’t been kind to him, but I’m uncertain if that’s the illness or the stress of everything.

The expression on his face is what holds my attention. I can’t figure out if he’s relieved and is masking it with fury or if he’s really as angry as he seems.

Either one is heartbreaking when it comes to its consequences for the man I love.

Then there’s Brenda.

She’s clinging to Gary’s arm as if they’re one and the same person and it’s part pathetic, part what I could picture my parents being like if my mom were alive.

Drew glances back at me for a moment and I note the intensity in his eyes that reflects everything about him in this moment. Defiance. Anger. Confusion.

I feel completely out of place and uncomfortable and struggle with whether to go or stay. So instead, I just stand right where I am with feet that feel like they’re weighed down by lead.

“She needs to leave,” Gary says to Drew, as if I’m a child he can’t stand to address.

“She stays,” he deadpans without looking at me or asking if I want to be here.

I don’t.

Not in the least.