Page 8 of XO

The tension falls like a wet blanket. “The fuck do you mean it’s just a game, son?”

“Jim, stop!” Mrs. Lynch timidly places a hand on her husband’s forearm trying to placate the situation, but he quickly shrugs her off.

My father shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and I’m disturbed at seeing this side of Jacob’s father.

“Do you know how many young men want to be in your position? How many would kill to be captain of one of the top five teams nationwide? And yet, here’s my waste-of-oxygen son passing it off asjust a game.”

“It was a mini-sports day, Dad. Not football!”

“Waste of oxygen and fucking thick. When you’re captain of the football team, son, you’re captain of everything in life. You live and breathe victory.”

“That’s absurd,” I say without hesitation.

Mr. Lynch directs his spite toward me. “You would say that because you don’t know what it’s like to win. You don’t know what it’s like to feel the power one gets through victory.”

“Actually, Rosie—” My father attempts to interject but is interrupted.

“Hold up, John,” Dickhead Lynch cautions. “If your daughter can give it, she can take it.”

“Leave her alone,” Jacob warns. “She’s allowed her opinion.”

Ignoring those around him, Mr. Lynch remains focused on me, awaiting my response.

Unperturbed, I accept the challenge. “I don’t care for the ‘power’ you speak of.” I used air quotes around the word for emphasis. “And I have better things in life to focus on that don’t revolve around victory parades and confetti. Jacob has the rest of his life to be serious, so if he happens to lose at something that has zero to do with football, man up and move along. You’re a busy man, Mr. Lynch, I’m sure you too must have more important things to concern yourself with.”

Clearly not hearing a word I’ve just said, he leans forward in his seat. “I don’t raise pussies. So, no son of mine will lose to a team of benchwarmers,” he says evenly, but smiles to pass it off as a joke.

“Benchwarmers?” I chide. “I think you’re misusing the term.”Why do I even feel the need to retaliate?“We’re not living your childhood, Mr. Lynch. The only expectations Jacob needs to live up to is his own, and even if he did lose to a group of art nerds or ‘whatever we call ourselves’…” again I use air quotes, “… who happened to have Hans from Germany on their side, it would be a humble lesson to learn... and not just for Jacob.” I hold his gaze, so he’s aware of the pointed remark.

The usually quiet, passive girl they’d watched grow up, suddenly has some fight in her. Mr. Lynch raises his brows. His wife, who’s no doubt experienced a year too many of her husband’s shit, hides her smile. My father gives me a wink—always my supporter—and my mother stares wide-eyed like her daughter has grown two heads. But Jacob, the boy I could easily throat punch and feel no remorse, he’s grinning from ear to ear, a newfound respect glowing from his dark chocolate eyes.

“Get you on a bad day did I, Rosie?” he taunts. It’s a chauvinistic remark he probably used on his wife many times.

“As good a day as any, Mr. Lynch.” I smile sweetly while gritting my teeth. Snatching my mineral water, I head down the stairs wishing the afternoon would end already.

“Where are you going, Rosie?” my mother calls, still miffed by my behavior.

“To cool off,” I yell, so I’m heard. “Before I stab the dickhead,” I say to myself before reaching the pool.

When I know they’ve all preoccupied themselves, I pull my skirt and tank off before diving in. It’s a burning day, and my temper is just as hot. Adjusting the strap of my bikini, I float to the edge and rest my cheek on the warm paver while idly kicking to keep the rest of me afloat. A good five minutes pass and their lively conversations further up become nothing but white noise.

“I brought you some lunch,” Jacob says from out of view.

I slowly open my eyes and squint against the sun. He circles around until he’s next to me, lowering his legs into the water and placing two plates of food between us.

“Is he always like that?” I ask, speaking about his father.

Jacob scoffs, “Worse.”

I suddenly feel bad for him. My dad is the most supportive, generous man I know. I hate to think Jacob doesn’t have the same. Moving so I’m standing in the pool, I meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, but he’s a jerk.”

“Oh, don’t I know it. I always said that if I ever become like my old man, I’m better off six-feet under.”

Something happens to my heart, and I feel it somehow thaw toward Jacob. “How does your mom tolerate his bullshit?”

“She’s used to it, I guess. He places the same expectations on her. However, unlike me, she tries her best to meet them.” He pauses for a moment, tilting his face to the sun before looking back at me. “That was really cool what you did. Defending me. You didn’t have to, especially after all the shit I’ve put you through over the years. I’m sorry for what he said about you.”

I laugh lightly. “Your father’s words mean nothing to me.”

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