Page 21 of The First Play

“I’ve got a bad feeling about it.” He shrugs. “I want you to stay away from her. You need to focus on football. That’s it.”

“Am I still allowed to go to work?” I grumble sarcastically.

“Hey.” He snaps his fingers at points at me. “Don’t get smart with me. I’m doing you a favor here, kid. You can’t lose sight of what’s important. Your entire future is riding on this, and I don’t want you to fuck it up the way I did.”

His words make me flinch, and I glare at him with the darkest look I can muster.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he rests his hands on his hips. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Monica will be stoked to have the fact that she’s a big mistake shoved in her face. What the hell is your problem?” My voice starts to rise before I can stop it. “I know what’s at stake, okay? You’re reminding every two seconds, so it’s kind of impossible to forget! I’m not gonna makeyourmistakes, so get the fuck off my back already!”

“Watch your mouth,” he growls, grabbing my arm when I try to walk away. “I’m trying to protect you.”

I scoff and shake him off me. “Thanks for that, warden,” I spit, trying to move past again.

He shifts, getting in my face and making me feel small. His finger presses into my chest, and I’m seconds away from flicking him off me when the front door opens.

“Zander? Baby? What’s going…?” Mom’s voice trails off as she quickly takes in the scene before her. Her sigh is low and heavy, her voice terse. “Brett, what are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to Zander.”

“At one o’clock in the morning?” Her expression is incredulous. “Shouting away like we don’t have neighbors? Honestly. Go home.”

“I’m trying to keep our son from screwing up his?—”

“Brett.” Mom’s voice is firm as she crosses her arms and glares at him. “Go. Home.”

He huffs, shoving his hands in his pockets and softly growling, “We’ll finish this later.”

“Can’t wait,” I mutter.

Dad gives me a stern side-eye before stalking to his car and peeling out of the driveway.

I clomp up the stairs, and Mom wraps her arms around me before I can even close the front door.

“That man,” she mutters. “He’s impossible.”

Despite the fact that I’m riled with my old man, I still find my instincts going on the defensive. I nearly start telling her that he’s just trying to look after me, but what the fuck?

It’s an automatic response to years of being caught between these two.

Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs.

Whatever point Dad’s trying to make, Mom’s always making the opposite one… whether she agrees with him or not.

“So, I’m guessing he was here wondering why you didn’t go to Noah’s.”

I sigh. “I never said I was going to Noah’s.”

“I know. We both just assumed… until we saw that blonde girl waiting by your car.” Mom smiles. “She’s pretty.”

“Yeah.” I nod, unable to hide my grin. “She’s great, Mom.”

“That’s nice, sweetheart.” She palms my cheek. “High school is about having fun, too, you know?”

I bob my head.

“Your father wants you to stay focused, but I want you to make sure you fit in some good times as well. So, you enjoy her company, but… baby…”

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