Page 13 of Hometown Halftime

“Do they like you?”

I shrug. “I think so.”

She nods with concern. “You’re good at helping. They’ll like you.”

Emma finishes her donut holes then I sit at the island beside her, where she crawls into my lap, curling into me like she used to when she was even smaller.

“When will Mom be home?” she asks.

“Same time as usual,” I tell her. “In about an hour.”

We stay like that until the front door opens and Lucy, my middle sister, bursts in from the school bus, dropping her backpack with a thud loud enough to wake the dead. Behind her, my little brother, Jackson, trudges in with a face that suggests he had a long day.

“Riley!” Lucy tackles me in a hug from behind. “Guess what? I got an A on my science vocabulary test. And I told Mrs. Chambers that you’re home now, and she said maybe you can come read to the class again, like when you were in high school.”

“Oh,” I say. “Uh…sure.”

Jackson dumps his folder on the table. “I hate fractions.”

“Everyone hates fractions,” I tell him.

He sighs dramatically. “It feels like a punishment.”

I rise from the island and set Emma in her chair at the table, her feet swinging. Then I go to the fridge and grab some snacks. Lucy catches the string cheese I toss her, already halfway into a story about something that happened at her lunch table, and I slide into the seat next to Jackson, turning his math worksheet so it’s facing me.

“Okay,” I say, tapping the paper. “Walk me through how you got this one.”

He leans closer, pencil hovering over the paper, explaining it in an exaggerated tone. I nod along, correcting him where he veers off, nudging him back on track without giving him the answer. Lucy chimes in from across the table with something completely unrelated. Emma hums to herself as she watches, and the whole kitchen fills with a commotion that feels familiar.

It’s easy to fall back into the role of an older brother, helping where I’m needed, keeping things moving. There’s also a part of me that resents how quickly everything changed and this became mine to carry.

But even as the thought crosses my mind, I know I would never give it up if I had the chance. Not when it means they don’t have to struggle.

Later, the front door opens, and Mom steps inside, her shoulders slumped from the weight of the day, but she smiles when she sees us gathered around the table. She hangs her bag by the door and heads straight for the sink to pour a glass of water.

As she passes behind me, her hand taps my shoulder gently.

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

“No need to thank me, Mom,” I say. “How was your day?”

“Busy, I swear they need to hire another person, but I can’t complain about the work.” Then her eyes flick toward me. “How’s everything going with scouting? You had a call with your coach this morning, right?”

I lean back in my chair, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. “Fine, I think.”

Mom gives me the look that says she knows I’m holding something back.

“Riley, you can give me a better answer than that.”

I sigh. “He said some teams weren’t thrilled when I came home this season.” My stomach twists admitting it out loud. “Coach said stepping away from football this close to draft prep made a few scouts nervous.”

Mom’s face falls. “Honey—”

“But he also said I can recover from it,” I add quickly. “I’m still training every day, and I’m keeping my grades up. Coach thinks if I stay sharp and come back strong in the spring, it won’t matter nearly as much as people think.”

Mom nods, accepting my answer. But I still feel a sinking feeling come over me because even though I know Coach wouldn’t bullshit me, I still get nervous that coming home might have cost me my dream.

Chapter five