Page 67 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

“The honey barbeque, but the mildly spicy one that’s not really all that hot.” I winked at her.

She giggled.

The others joined us, and together we headed out of the arena.

“Where are y’all parked?” I asked.

“The back lot with the players,” Eliska answered for them all. “Calliope pulled some strings with her dad.”

“Calliope can get a lot of things from her daddy if she only bats those eyes,” Lance called from somewhere behind us.

Where had he come from?

My question must’ve shown in my eyes because he jerked his chin toward the back wall. “Talking on the phone with my mom. She wanted an update on practice.”

Lance’s mom and Lance had a weird relationship.

She was great on the surface, but it almost felt like she was putting on a show.

Like how she would always make sure that the team got little care packages. But then, when Lance didn’t call her on time after a game, she would ring him over and over and over again until he answered. Then chew him out for ‘scaring’ her.

Needless to say, I felt like their relationship was slightly unhealthy.

But that was for Lance to figure out on his own, not for me to point out to him.

Chapter

Five

My temper is shorter than my daddy’s hair…he’s bald. Don’t play with me.

—Text from Bryson to Jeremiah

JEREMIAH

“Dude, where’s your car?”

I rolled my eyes at Bryson. “Please, do not start your eloquent movie quotes. I don’t think I have enough carbs in my system.”

Bryson flashed me a grin.

“I’ll drive,” Eliska said. “I’ll bring you back to your car later, Bryson.”

“No can do, sister.” Bryson headed to his own truck. “I have to be at home at a decent hour tonight. There’s no way in hell that I’m going to make it much more than an hour, and you can go all night.”

Eliska rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

Meanwhile I glanced at Merriam and said, “You drive?”

She shook her head.

“I did,” Gisela said. “But Eliska, you can ride with me, and I’ll bring you back. That way we’re not all trying to park in that atrocious parking lot.”

“Deal.” Eliska headed to her car, leaving Merriam to go in mine.

“You drive a Volkswagen?” She stopped when I got to my rental.

“Actually, no,” I said. “I drive an old 1969 Chevy truck, but I got tired of dying in the winter and the summer because it has no heat or air conditioner. So we’re modifying it to add that in.”

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