Page 81 of Second Down Fake

A lady in a high-visibility vest and a security uniform confirmed my words with a short bleat into her whistle, waving for Paul to drive off.

“You know, love, you really didn’t have to come all this way. Didn’t you have something fun planned?” Mom asked as she slid into the car. “Where did you go last year?”

“Octoberfest,” I answered with a grimace. “I just figured since you couldn’t make a game this year, I would come see you for once.”

We piled into the car, and Paul pulled out of the airport.

Mom shifted in the passenger seat, turning to face us in the back. She tilted her head, eyes scanning Cassandra. “Well, I am thrilled. Especially since you brought Cassandra.”

“He couldn’t keep me away,” Cassandra added gamely. “Besides, I’ve never been to Mississippi before.”

“Well, there’s not much to see, but I had a little barbecue planned,” Mom said. I winced. “Nothing big, just some friends.”

“She’s invited the entire town,” I murmured into Cassandra’s ear with a groan. If I had to come to Mississippi, I wanted to spend that time with my mom and Cassandra. Instead, I’d spend the night signing autographs and fending off church invitations.

“Don’t listen to him! Besides, it’s a small community, and everyone is eager to see Diego after so long,” Mom explained, more for Cassandra’s benefit than mine.

“Sorry, bud.” Paul frowned in the rearview mirror. “I tried to talk her out of it.”

“I get to see Diego at least twice a year. Some of these people haven’t seen him since he was a child!” Mom argued.

“That sounds like fun. I hadn’t even eaten barbecue until I moved to Virginia,” she said. I shot her a sidelong look, eyebrow raised. “Yeah, not a thing in New Hampshire. We grill.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Pastor Davies is doing ribs and butt. It’ll be a hoot,” Mom replied.

I shook my head at Cassandra, eyes wide. She tapped my chest with a grin. “Don’t be dramatic!”

“I’m not dramatic,” I argued.

“He’s a little dramatic,” Mom agreed, a pleased smile on her face as she turned to face the road. “Did I mention I turned the spare room into a gym?”

TWENTY-SEVEN

DIEGO

After stopping for dinner on the way home, we pulled into my mom’s three-bedroom ranch on the outskirts of town just after dark. We hadn’t even unloaded our suitcases before Mom yawned and kissed me goodnight, promising to catch up in the morning.

I led Cassandra down the familiar shag carpeted hallway into my bedroom and opened the door with a wince. My bedroom hadn’t changed since I’d left home. Except for a full bed replacing the twin, Mom had maintained a shrine to my childhood right down to the wood-paneled walls and the cutouts of my celebrity crushes on the wall.

“Well, well, well.” Cassandra’s green eyes shone as she dropped her bag on the bed and perused the bookshelf. “Are these yearbooks? Please tell me there’s a diary in here, too.”

“A journal,” I said, setting down my bag beside hers and rifling through until I found my toiletry bag. “And I burned that years ago.”

“Boo.” She pulled out my middle school yearbook and sat on the bed.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll find something embarrassing anyway. How did you sign your yearbooks?” She looked up from flipping through the book and narrowed her eyes. “You look like a ‘Stay Cool’ yearbook signer.”

“I normally went for ‘Have a Great Summer’.”

She crinkled her nose. “Wow. Somehow that’s even worse.”

I grabbed a pair of sweats and a shirt out of the bag, setting it on my toiletries. “Let me guess, personalized haikus.”

“Sonnets, but close.”

“Well, you have all weekend to paw through my old things, but Mom will wake us up at the crack of dawn, so we should get some sleep.”

She waved me away. With her attention back on the book, I slipped into the bathroom. Paul had changed out the drop-tile ceiling with the water stain, but the sink pipes still leaked as evidence by the bucket underneath the sink.

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