Page 18 of XO

“Neither are you.”

There’s a momentary stare-off, each of us challenging the other to reveal our hidden truths.

Nothing.

Nada.

Stubborn assholes.

As if on cue, a stabbing pain shoots through my abdomen, and my back feels like it’s on fire. I drop my nibbled-on fry and clutch my stomach, breathing deeply to quell the pain.

“Jesus, Rosie,” my dad starts, his voice returning to normal. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You don’t look any better than you did this afternoon.”

“I’m fine,” I wince, wishing whatever was attacking me internally would stop. “It comes and goes.”

“I’ll book you in to see Dr. Symmonds tomorrow.”

I nod my thanks and push my food away. He carefully watches for any other signs of sickness, so I change the subject, a subject not particularly to my liking, but still one that will take the focus of whatever is happening to my insides.

“So, the Panthers are playing the Giants next Friday, and I’ve been asked to go.”

He leans against the sofa, questioning whether he heard correctly. As expected, my father laughs at the absurd idea causing me to smile because this man knows me better than I know myself.

“I’m sorry,” he says, insincerely. “It’s just a part of you shrivels up and dies at the mere mention of football, so I’m a little blown away that you’re suddenly taking an interest.”

I laugh at the stupidity of it. “I never said I was interested. Just that I’ve been asked, and I’m not sure if I should go or not.”

“That someone must be pretty special to you if they’ve got you considering the notion.”

I scrunch my nose up. “Ew, no. It’s Jacob! He asked me, but weirdly enough so did Kevin Foster.”

My father’s brows shoot up in surprise so fast I think they momentarily left his forehead. “Jacob Lynch, the team captain, and Kevin Foster, the linebacker? They both asked you to the game?”

I nod. It seems even more absurd when someone else says it out loud. “Yep.”

“But you can’t stand Jacob.”

“I know.”

“Then why do both those boys suddenly feel compelled to ask you?”

“Oh, thanks, Dad,” I say feigning offense. “Because I’m so unworthy of being asked by two boys like them.”

His smile quickly fades. “Boo-boo, you’re too worthy of them. And I’m not saying that because you’re my daughter. I’m saying it because both those boys have reputations I don’t want you involved with. Not to mention Jacob has been your personal tormentor for the last four years.”

“Yet, he and his family are still invited over.”

“That’s your mother’s doing, not mine.”

I think for a moment, lost in thought at the dangerous undertones of the situation. “What have you heard about them?” I mean, I know bits and pieces about their reputations, as much as I concerned myself to know, but I’m surprised my father seems to know more about them than me.

“I know both those boys’ fathers all too well, and the apples don’t fall far from the tree, especially Kevin Foster. His father is a known con-man around town and is quite open about those he’s bribing to get his son to higher places. And, Jacob Lynch… he’s messing around with Chelsea Campbell, who I have no doubt will be pregnant before graduation with the way they carry on, and that’s not someone I want my daughter to be spending her spare time with. Boys like Jacob and Kevin are only after one thing and that’s easy girls. Which is what you aren’t, and by default…” he continues, “… put an even bigger target on your head because you’d be almost a game to them.”

Does my father have a point?

I think back to Kevin’s comment in the art room about popping my cherry, already dropping suggestions of what he wants to do to me. As far as Jacob goes, can he really be put in the same category as Kevin? I know he’s an asshole, and yes, he’s humiliated me more times than I can count, but does he really deserve a code-red warning?

“All I’m saying is…” my father continues, sensing my unease, “… don’t place yourself in a situation you can’t get out of. Because if you give either of those boys an inch, they’ll take the whole mile. And besides… boys like Jacob Lynch will only break your heart, Rosie.”

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