Page 35 of From Fling to Ring

Someone knocks on the waiting room door jamb. “Everything in here all right?” a wary nurse asks.

“Yes,” they bark in her direction.

Mr. Brooks and Tyler turn back to each other, and I shrug apologetically toward the nurse, like it’s my own freaking family.

“Dad, I seriously thought Ruby was in dire straits. You could have just said she’s hypoglycemic. I mean, you called me from the hospital, right? Had she woken up by the time you called?”

Now Mr. Brooks is on the defensive. “Yes, Tyler. She’d woken up by the time we got here because the paramedics gave her an IV.”

“Is there some reason you didn’t share that with me, Dad? Did you have to give me a goddamn heart attack, thinking the last time I saw my little sister was when I took her out for burgers last week?”

I look between the two of them, my head swiveling back and forth like I’m at a tennis match.

“Now, Tyler, no need to swear. I’m not one of your teammates, you know….”

They go back and forth like this, making no progress whatsoever in that way families communicate—or don’t—and I have to say I end up biting my lip because their argument is so classic.

They could go around and around for the next ten years and still not agree.

Families, yo.

Tyler huffs. “Whatever, Dad. What room is she in? I’m gonna go see her.”

Mr. Brooks shrugs one shoulder. “I wouldn’t bother. She’s asleep. I’ll take her home as soon as they discharge her.”

Tyler looks down at the floor, nodding, like he’s trying to muster all the self-control he can. He did the same thing at his game, I think when his team missed the goal net thing. Or whatever it’s called.

“Lucy, can I get a ride home with you?” he asks.

I nod eagerly, thrilled not only to be of service but also to separate these two, who are just wasting time trying to convince each other they’re right.

“Of course. If we can find our way back to my car.”

18

LUCY

As we’re pulling out of the hospital parking garage, Tyler passes me his credit card to pay. I don’t take it, though. I may not make much money, but I can swing ten dollars.

Other than his directing me to his place, there’s not much conversation in the car. He’s probably embarrassed I saw him so full of emotion earlier, and I’m embarrassed that he’s embarrassed.

So, basically, we’re both totally fucked up. And it doesn’t help that at each traffic light, I steal glances at him, and he keeps catching me.

I pull into the drive in front of his building, but leave the car idling. I’m not sure what else to do.

Turns out I don’t need to worry about it, because Tyler takes off his seatbelt and turns to me. “Hey, I’m sorry about that back there. My dad is prone to overreaction, and it’s a sore spot between us.”

I nod understandingly. “Sure. I get it. Must be a lot of stress having a daughter with health issues.”

Tyler nods. “It is stressful for him, and I think it takes him right back to how he felt when he lost Mom, and how devastated he was. He couldn’t survive losing anyone else. He just couldn’t.”

Like father, like son? Maybe?

Tyler’s voice catches and he looks out the window, away from me.

Here we go again. Fuckboys aren’t supposed to have emotion. They’re cold and self-centered and don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves.

Right?

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