Page 51 of Not Fooling Anyone

“I don’t know,” I tell Scott. “Nothing definitive has been set up yet. And it’s an amateur bout. No betting.”

“You’ve been training for a while. When are you going to get in the ring for real?”

“It’ll happen. Don’t worry.”

I take a huge bite of lasagna so they don’t ask me any more questions, immediately regretting my decision as it burns the roof of my mouth.

I keep to myself as the dinner continues, letting the usual chatter wash over me. The only person quieter than me is Jacob, who decided from an early age he had no interest in competing with the rest of us trying to get a word in. Despite being twins, he and Jordan couldn’t be more different.

The twins take care of cleanup after dinner, and Mom drags me upstairs into the home office she and Dad converted from Scott’s old bedroom years ago.

“Is this where we’re having our secret meeting?” I ask her, still clueless as to why she wants to talk.

“Yes.” She opens her laptop, navigating to some site I don’t recognize. “I didn’t want to bring it up in front of your brothers, but I suddenly have multiple insurance claims for you this week. Two visits to the endocrinologist? What’s that about?”

What is she doing? Trolling her health insurance account? Don’t claims normally take a long time to be processed?

“Is this related to boxing, too?” she asks when I’m silent. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No, Mom.” I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my beard. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”

For some reason, I don’t want to tell anyone just yet. It’s… private.

Her brows narrow. “Everything’s fine? You haven’t been to a doctor since high school when I would drag you for your annual physical. I don’t buy that you all of a sudden need to see a specialist if something isn’t wrong.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Great. Now I sound like Lexie. She must be rubbing off on me.

Her lips pinch together. “Fine.”

That obviously means she’s not fine, but I take the reprieve anyway. I know this isn’t the last I’ll hear about it from her, but I’m not ready to share. I can only imagine what everyone will say, the questions they’ll ask. I’ll be the Hudson boy with diabetes.

Not the smart one. Not the class clown. Not the boxer.

The one with an incurable disease.

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” I promise her. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

She reaches out, squeezing my arm. “You really are an adult, aren’t you?” she murmurs. “All of you used to need me so much, and now you’re grown and off living your own life. Just try to keep me in the loop, okay?”

“Mom…” I pull her into a bear hug. “I still need you.” But not about this. Not yet. “I’m here eating the insanely delicious food you made, aren’t I?”

“I haven’t even heard from you since the semester started.” She extracts herself from my hold, smiling warmly at me. “But that’s fine. That means I did a good job raising you if you don’t need me as much.”

I squint at her. “Are you trying to get me emotional? Because it won’t work.”

She laughs, wiping briefly at her left eye. “No, but I might.”

“I’ll call more often. Promise. Things have just been busy.” School. Boxing. Work. Now this thing with Lexie. Not that it’s too much to handle, but I’ll admit Lexie’s occupied most of my mental real estate lately.

And now that we might have to kiss next week? I can’t say I’ve ever been looking forward to something as simple as that.

I head back downstairs, catching up with Jacob on the programming boot camp course he’s taking online, then shoot the shit for a bit with Scott about some things at work. Jordan hangs around us like a pesky fly, but soon gets bored when he realizes there’s nothing he can contribute to the conversation.

I leave at nine, finding Tyler and his girlfriend, Mia, watching some horror flick on the couch in the living room when I return home. She’s curled tightly against his side, her palm over her eyes, peeking through.

I shut the front door, creeping as quietly as I can toward them. Mia glances back, spotting me, and I hold a finger to my lips in a shushing signal.

Upon reaching Tyler, I brush my fingers lightly against the side of his neck, savoring the choked cry he makes as he whips around.

---