Page 79 of The Risk

“Davenport was throwing an attitude,” he answers from the other room, and there’s no mistaking his displeasure. “I don’t know what’s going on with that kid.”

“Maybe it’s girl trouble. I heard he’s going through the puck bunnies like hotcakes.”

Dad appears in the doorway, running a hand over his buzz cut. “Women,” he mutters. “Always the root of this shit.”

“Actually, I meant that Hunter was being the obnoxious one and using the bunnies to deal with his own issues. But, cool, blame everything on us, the evil demon women.” I roll my eyes. “I hope you didn’t say this kind of stuff to Mom.”

“No,” he says gruffly. “Your mother wasn’t a demon. She had her issues. But we all do.” He gives me a pointed look, but then the microwave beeps and he turns to get his dinner.

I’m glad that he leaves the room. I’m so tired of seeing his harsh judgment. He’s never going to let me forget my mistakes.

I wonder how other people cope with the knowledge that their parents are ashamed of them. The weight of my father’s shame has been pressing down on my shoulders for years, and I’ve yet to find a way to deal with it.

The girls’ night that Summer and I anticipated doesn’t pan out. We walk into Malone’s to find Hollis, Nate, and Hunter at the bar. When they spot us, Nate suggests grabbing a booth, and it’s impossible to say no in the face of Nate’s dimples. So we pile into a booth near the pool tables, where Hollis announces we’re doing shots.

“After today’s practice, we all need it,” he says darkly.

I give a wave to Jesse Wilkes and his girlfriend, Katie, who are shooting pool at one of the far tables. Katie waves back enthusiastically.

“That was brutal,” Nate agrees.

I shift my gaze back. “Yeah, my dad said there was some tension today.” I fix a knowing look at Hunter.

“Aw, is Coach trashing me behind my back?” he mocks.

“I’m pretty sure whatever he said to me, he also said right to your face. I know my father, and he doesn’t mince words.”

“Oh, Coach reamed him out good today,” Nate confirms, his eyes twinkling.

“What’d you do to deserve it?” I ask Hunter.

He shrugs. “I was ten minutes late.”

“I think he was more pissed that you had a chick in the locker room,” Hollis argues.

My jaw drops. “You brought a girl into the locker room? Don’t tell me he caught you two hooking up?”

Hunter shakes his head irritably. “Dude, it was so harmless. I crashed at her place last night and she dropped me off at the arena, wanted a quick tour of the facility. Which is what made me late for practice.”

“What chick is this?” Hollis asks. “The one from Jesse’s party? Or Pierre’s cousin who’s visiting from Montreal?”

“Wow, look at you, Hot Stuff,” I crack. “It’s a veritable girl parade in the life of Hunter.”

He grins at me. “Who doesn’t love a good parade?”

“I love parades,” Hollis agrees. “When I was a kid we lived in San Francisco, and the Pride parade there was so—” He stops when his phone lights up. He whips it to his ear. “You can’t call me every five minutes, Rupi. That’s not how life works.”

When her high-pitched voice ripples out of the phone, I bury my face against my forearm and start to laugh. Beside me, Summer is giggling.

“What do you want to do, put a GPS in my phone? I’m with the guys, okay?” He pauses. “Brenna and Summer are here, too.” He pauses again. “If you’re so fucking concerned, come and hang out with us. Iinvitedyou.”

He did? He’s inviting her places now?

“Then get a fake ID!” he growls. “You know what? I don’t care if you’re mad. There. I said it. I don’t care. You’re always mad about something and it’s driving me insane.”

And yet oddly enough, I don’t hear a trace of genuine hostility in his tone. It almost seems like he’s into this toxic tornado we inadvertently—okay, deliberately—placed in his path.

“Fine…” He halts every few seconds to listen. “Fine… Fine… Fine… Nope, I will not. Nope, I’m not gonna apologize. You can come here if you want. I’m not coming to see you. Bye Felicia.”

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