Page 95 of End Game

Regretting my life choices every step of the way.

I’m in my truck headed home when my phone starts ringing. It’s my mom.

“Why are you calling me right now? You know I’m supposed to be at practice” is how I answer her.

“Then why are you answering my call if you’re supposedly in practice?” She sounds worried.

I blow out a harsh breath. “Sorry, Mom. It’s been a—rough day.”

“You’re all right, though? You’re not hurt and in the back of an ambulance?”

“No, I’m fine.” Moms. They worry a lot, and it’s unnecessary most of the time.

“Thank God.” Damn, she’s dramatic. “I suddenly had a weird feeling about you and thought I’d call.”

“What do you mean, a weird feeling?”

“I don’t know. I could sense something was ... off.” She pauses for only a second. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you at practice?”

I’m close to my mom, but I haven’t talked to her as much this quarter. She’s always understanding about how much football keeps mebusy, and I appreciate her support, but lately I’ve been trying to do my own thing. Not depend on my mama as much.

But she called at the right time. Right now, I need her.

Taking a deep breath, I tell her the whole story, leaving out a few more private details, but I’m pretty honest with her overall. Once I’m done complaining, she softly exhales. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Please.”

“My father used to always say this when I’d complain about having a bad day and how everyone treated me terribly—if you think everyone is being an asshole, that usually means you’re the asshole.”

I go quiet. I’ve heard her say this before and always blew it off. I’m not an asshole. I’m the good-time guy. The fun guy. I’m laughing and smiling and flirting and drinking and catching pretty much every single ball that’s thrown at me out on the field. You’ll never see me being a dickhead.

Lately, all I’ve been is a dickhead.

Or an asshole.

Take your pick.

“Are you calling me the asshole?” I ask.

She bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but smile. My mom’s laughter always cheers me up. “Yes, Nico. I’m calling you the asshole. You never fight with your roommates or Gavin.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Is it because Everleigh moved in with you? Is she causing tension among you all?”

“It’s me,” I admit. “I’m the one causing the tension.”

Over Everleigh, which is dumb. They all like her. They think she’s great. She is great. I like her too.

But it’s more than that, what I feel for Everleigh. She’s not just a friend. I want to explore more with her.

Pretty sure I fucked up my chances.

“What did you do to her to have her running so scared?”

I showed her my true colors, and she didn’t like what she saw.

But I can’t tell my mom that. She’ll defend me to the bitter end, even when she’s calling me an asshole at the same time.

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