Page 40 of The Quarterback Sneak

When the door clicks shut, I drop my bag, smiling at one of the maids as she walks by. Classical music plays through the hidden wall speakers as I stride across the freshly cleaned marble tile. The click of my heels echoes around the room, and it’s the first time I’ve thought about how absurd and pretentious my home life must look to other people. I yearn for a family home that is one room deep, with parents sitting on a couch older than me with a smile on their faces because they’re happy to see me.

“Hunniford!” My mother’s shrill voice makes me jump out of my fantasy back into the pristine white walls of our mansion. She’s standing in the doorway to the formal dining room, looking at me like I’m some fish our cook brought home that she got a whiff of. “Get in here now.” The command in her voice irks me, but I shouldn’t be surprised since this is the tone I normally get.

Bowing my head, I hide my lip twitch and do some fake formal curtsy. Even though I do it patronizingly, my mother takes it seriously and smiles. Turning on her heel, she walks back into the room, where I have no doubts my father is waiting for me. They only sit in there when I’ve done something wrong.

I can hear the tapping of her impatient shoes while I trudge toward my fate and contemplate what I’ve messed up this time. Maybe Jamie’s mom told her he’s got a new girlfriend, and there’s no chance for me. Somehow, it will be my fault. Probably not. That kind of misbehavior would earn me more than a dining room intervention. She’s probably ticked because I missed spin class or something.

I pause at the door when I see my father, and my stomach drops. Adjusting his cuffs, he’s still in his workwear, looking mildly peeved that I’ve taken so long. Being such a high-powered lawyer, he doesn’t acknowledge me unless I’ve embarrassed the family, and the fact he’s here still dressed for work lets me know I’m in deep shit.

“Take a seat.” My mom gestures to my usual Friday night dinner seat—the only time we have a meal together. The rest of the time, I usually eat alone while Ada, the chef, watches me with a sympathetic smile. “You didn’t get back with Jamie.” My mom’s cool tone is undeniable. She’s about to blow a gasket, so I need to tread carefully.

“Jamie’s got a new girlfriend,” I blurt out, letting the omission spill like a ripped Band-Aid. I figure it’s better they hear it from me than from a gossipy mother at the country club. I watch my dad’s reaction, hoping I’ll get some pity play from the last comment, but he sits there stone-faced, as usual. “It’s kind of hard to win someone back when they start dating the girl they cheated on you with.”

My mother rolls her eyes. “Although that’s annoyed us to no end, that’s not why we’ve called you in here. I heard an interesting tidbit at the club this afternoon about you and a certain boy in your class.” I swallow and close my eyes. This is it. I knew eventually they’d find out, but I was hoping I’d have longer than a couple of weeks. “I believe his name is ZachEvans.” God, does this woman have nothing better to do with her life than get involved in mine?

“Yes, Zach’s a great guy. I thought you’d prefer I find myself someone new and show Jamie up than sit around looking like a loser still pining over him.”

“Well, I mean, yes, we’d rather you keep the Sanderson name strong, but why didn’t you pick a different guy, like Brett James, for example?”

“Brett James? My biology partner?” And the biggest lothario in the school, who is only interested in me to win a bet. No, thank you. “I’m not his type. Besides, what’s wrong with Zach?”

My mother raises her brows because that’s enough to answer the question. It doesn’t matter that Zach is a decent and honest guy who works his ass off to get everything he can in life. He’ll never be good enough for me because he doesn’t have the right last name or status.

“I hear he’s on a scholarship.” When it comes out of her mouth, it sounds like a dirty word, making me straighten my back.

“He’s notjusta scholarship kid. He’s been the starting quarterback for the last two years and has managed to earn himself a full ride to St. Michael’s with his grades and performance.”

My parents look at me blankly, and I bite my tongue, holding back on going on a tirade about how determined, funny, and smart he is. I hate how my school and family have judged him before knowing anything about him.

My father clears his throat. “I’m sure he’s got great athletic ability, that’s why he was scouted into the school in the first place, but you come from one of the richest families in the country, Hunniford. Don’t you think it’s a little coincidental that the minute you break up with your long-term partner he comes sniffing around?”

I lower my chin and glare at them. “Are you telling me you think he’s a gold digger?” They slowly nod, and I snort, throwing my head back on a laugh. “Wow. No. he’s not dating me for the money.” Not mine, at least. “He’s doing it because he likes me, and I like him.” I don’t normally fight back against my parents. Usually, I toe the line no matter how much it annoys me, but today, I feel emboldened because Zach’sI don’t give a fuck what people thinkattitude has rubbed off on me.

My parents pass a judging glance at each other. They hate when my opinion differs from theirs, but I don’t push back often, and Zach’s important enough to say something.

“That’s fine, Honey,” my father says, too calmly for me not to be suspicious. “If that’s what you want, then we’re more than happy for you and Zach to date.” His words are simple, but I sit there confused as hell. Why on earth is he so happy for me to date Zach?

“But …”

There it is.

I knew it was too good to be true, and I was being passed off too easily. “But what?”

“We’d like to meet him,” my mother interjects with a smug look.

“Why?”

“Because we care about who you associate with,” she says. Of course she cares. It’s because whoever I hang out with reflects on her. “Besides, you said he’s not interested in you for the money. That means he should have no problem meeting us.”

This is all starting to go a little too far. Zach won’t want to meet my parents, and I have to somehow keep this whole thing going without getting found out.

“Yeah, uh, sure. That sounds fun.” I feel like a fraud, but what else can I say? I’d rather pull out each of my eyelashes individually than ask Zach to meet my parents. What on earthwould he think of them if he came here? What would he think of me? Not that it matters, but I hate him thinking I’m as superficial and coldhearted as my parents.

“Great.” My father leans back, pushing his chair out, and lightly clasps his hands as though we’ve finished our business meeting. “Let me know the date, and I’ll put it in the diary. The sooner, the better.”

“No problem,” I state, standing.

“Can’t wait to meet him,” my mom coos with a sinister smile as she floats out of the room. Her mission is accomplished, so she doesn’t need to spend more time with me than necessary. My father follows closely behind her, leaving me to stand in the lonely, cold dining room.

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