Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“You still eat these? Watermelon, right?”
I smiled because he remembered. “My favorite.”
We talked and laughed and played tic-tac-toe with Star until his dad cleared his throat at the door and signaled it was time to go.
“See you tomorrow,” Henry said, heading toward his father.
“Bye!” Star called out, making him snicker as he winked over his shoulder.
“You have some explaining to do,” Mom said on the way home.
“Did they recognize you?”
“They pretended not to in front of the professor, but I know they did. Come to think of it, they were snobby to me back then too, which was pretty rich considering both our children were suffering.”
“Imagine being raised that way,” I pointed out. “That’s why I’m so lucky to have you and Star.”
“I’m sorry we struggle so much and can’t afford more nice things. Being around those parents really brought home our differences.”
“Don’t apologize, Mom. I wouldn’t trade my family for any of them.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “Now explain.”
So I did, telling her about football and expectations, and after meeting his parents, I thought she got it even more, though it was hard to understand why it was so important to them.
Mom said, “When the professor walked away, Mr. Albrecht followed him into the classroom. I got Mrs. Albrecht’s attention and privately told her some things.”
“Mom, you promised.” Warily, I asked, “What did you say?”
“It was the right thing to do,” she said with a sniff. “I told her Henry had grown into a fine young man and that I was happy he’d gone into remission.”
“And?”
“Mrs. Albrecht said she was happy you survived too. It was out of earshot of anyone, and especially, it seemed, her husband.” Her fingers turned white on the steering wheel. “That might’ve bothered me most of all.”
I supposed Mom had to say her piece. I couldn’t fault her for that, could I?
12
HENRY
It was halftime, and we were down by a touchdown because of a few novice missteps by the defensive line that resulted in penalties against us. Coach’s frustration rang through in the locker room. “We’re better than this, and our record proves it!”
He was right. We’d only lost one game this season, last week against the Bulldogs on their turf, but tonight we had home-field advantage and the entire stadium in our corner.
After Coach was finished fuming, he looked to me, and as the team captain, I stood and faced my teammates with a lump in my throat. It was my job to keep them centered and positive, and some days the effort weighed heavily on me. Still, I dug deep for the extra confidence. If I didn’t, we might fuck it all up.
“I only have one thing to say to you, Sentinels: all hands in!” I yelled, and my teammates immediately responded by forming a circle and stacking their hands on top of mine. The remaining senior players on the team were even more animated because they wanted to go out on top this season, maybe even win a championship. But that was getting a little ahead of ourselves; we’d barely squeaked out a wild card spot last season. Still, some bravado was good in this situation. “Let’s show them who we are and kick some ass.”
There were cheers and whistles as we broke apart and made our way back on the field to a noisy and crowded stadium.
I took some snaps on the sideline as we waited on the refs to give the signal to start the second half. Quickly glancing up at the stands, I easily spotted my parents in the middle of the crowd, where they normally sat. They hadn’t missed a home game yet. I should’ve been more grateful, but the pressure dead center in my chest that I always felt in their presence nearly made my knees buckle. And it still wasn’t as bad as the burden Bones felt from his family to live up to his all-star older brother. He rarely spoke of it, or just laughed it off, but it was true what I’d told Lark about other parents’ expectations being worse.
My eyes were immediately drawn to a lone figure cautiously walking up the steps, carrying two drinks and wearing a black jacket, jeans, and a beanie. Holy shit, Lark was here. He scanned the rows before scooting into one near the top and sitting down beside a guy and a girl.
I blinked several times, wondering if I was dreaming. But when he lifted a hand and waved to Emil, who was sitting one section over with the band, I knew it was real.
Just as Lark’s eyes scanned the field and homed in on me—at least I thought they did—a football smacked me in the shoulder.
“What the hell, dude?” A-Train said.
“Sorry. A little heads-up, please.”
But even as I picked up the football to toss back to him, my gaze slid back to Lark. He and his two friends laughed about something and nudged shoulders. It felt like a burning-hot brand in my chest.