Page 10 of Foolish Games

“He knows what’s up,” Robert says. “But I’m not worried about him.”

“Hey,” I protest. “I’m your friend. Why you gotta talk shit on me?”

“Yeah, you’re my friend,” he agrees. “Which is how I know the rumors are true. The way you treat chicks is your business—as long as it’s not my sister.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” I say. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

“Like that’s ever stopped your ass,” Robert says. “I know you don’t respect that as a reason not to go after a girl. So I’m just warning you. That’s not the girl for you.”

“I know,” I grit out. “Drop it.”

“Alright, alright,” he says. “Just want to add a friendly reminder that my dad’s a lawyer first, though.”

“What, are you going to get a restraining order on my dick?” I ask, annoyed by his badgering me.

“Not if you keep it 500 yards from my sister,” he says, gliding to a stop at the curb outside my house.

I flip him off and duck out of the car, wondering if the reason he’s so adamant about me staying away from Vivienne is because he thinks I’m not good enough for her. Looking at my shabby, brick ranch-style on our piss poor block of Davis Street, I can’t blame the guy.

Still. Part of me wants to do it just to prove him wrong. His sister is fine as hell, but that’s not why I’ve started to look at her as more than an annoying little geek girl. He’s only made me want her more the longer he goes on about how I can’t have her. I’ve never met a challenge I didn’t want to take. And this one… I’d take my sweet time winning that game.

I shake the thoughts away, dropping the weight of school worries and picking up the one of home worries at the door. Inside, I find Mel on the couch, a bowl of macaroni and cheese in her lap. The little ones are lying on pillows on the floor. All three of them stare glassy eyed at the TV. I head into my room and kick off my shoes, then dump my wet football clothes in the washer. I pause to listen for the shower running, since I don’t want to freeze Mom out by stealing the hot water. Over the drumming of the rain on the roof, I can just make out the sound of the water running in her bathroom… And the unmistakable sound of sobbing.

I leave the washer and head back to the living room. “Hey, Mel. What’s up with Mom?”

“I don’t know,” she says, giving me a look like I’m asking her to wash my jock strap instead of know what’s going on with her own mother.

I head into the kitchen and check the mac and cheese pan, but it’s empty. I give it a quick scrub and put it back on. By the time Mom joins me in the kitchen, I’ve got dinner going.

“Everything okay?” I ask, watching her pour herself a steaming mug of coffee from the pot.

“Yeah,” she says, glancing at the living room. The others are all engrossed in finding out if the guy on Maury is the father.

“I heard you in the shower,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Mom, what’s going on? Let me help.”

Mom lowers her voice too. “I got written up at work last night.”

“Again?” I demand. “What happened?”

She sighs. “The car stalled on my way in again.”

“Damn it.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I need to get a fucking job.”

“You can’t do that,” she says, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “But maybe we can take just a little gift from one of the boosters. They’ve offered so much. Maybe one of them could pay to have the car serviced.”

“Fuck,” I say, leaning back on the counter and dropping my head back. “I won’t be able to play college ball if anyone finds out. And without that scholarship…”

I don’t have to finish. Without a scholarship, I won’t be going to college at all. I’ll probably end up working at the same gas station Mom does.

“Then don’t risk it,” Mom says. “We’ll figure something out.”

“That’s your third write-up,” I point out. “If you lose that job, even if you find another one a week later…”

“Then how am I going to feed the kids,” Mom finishes, her lips tight. “I know, hon. I’ll just have to… I don’t know. Do Bernard a favor so he doesn’t fire me if it happens again.”

“No,” I say flatly. “Fuck no. You’re not whoring yourself out for a job that pays six bucks an hour.”

“Sebastian,” Mom scolds. “I didn’t say anything about whoring myself out. I could just take him up on his offer to take me out. He’s asked me about ten times now.”

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