Page 32 of Not Just a Trick Play

I snort. Intimidating, my ass.

Me

She’s a monster.

Sweets

I kind of want to be her when I grow up.

My laughter echoes in the silent room, and then I’m eagerly typing out a response.

Me

Putting my hands over my ears and eyes now. Nah-nah-nah

There’s a pause in the conversation while I wait for telltale dots to form. Did she fall asleep?

Sweets

Jake…I meant to say thank you.

A slow, simmering warmth spreads through me at her simple message. I did a good thing, arranging the interview. Being around her isn’t going to turn my world upside down, is it?

I puff out a breath. Who am I kidding? Having her close will be like walking a tightrope over Niagara Falls while juggling flaming flamingos.

Me

You’re welcome.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, suddenly heavy. I’m usually Mr. Chatterbox, the guy who can fill any silence. Funny how, in a family where you have to fight to be heard, I’ve never struggled to find words. Until now.

Me

Did you do any touristy stuff after your interview?

Small talk, this is what I’ve been reduced to. Seriously, what’s next? Chatting about the weather?

Sweets

Yes, I walked through Central Park and Columbus Circle.

Me

Wasn’t too cold?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Me

More tomorrow?

Sweets

Yes. I’ve got plans in the morning.

My brows pinch together. Plans? What plans? And with who? Not that it’s any of my business. I crack my neck. But I refuse to pry and take it as my cue to let her go, though every fiber in me revolts.

Me

---