Page 1 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
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COOPER
Ipopped a spicy jalapeño kettle chip into my mouth, crunching loudly. Linc’s back stiffened, and he straightened to shoot an annoyed look over his shoulder. “Do you mind?”
“Nope,” I said cheerfully as I reclined into a battered gaming chair low on the floor of the little rec room at the back of our frat house. The pool table was about fifty years old, with a green felt covering stained with spills. It was like tradition now; someone was sure to tip over a beer at the start of each new year. Most of the guys preferred videogames to pool, hence the gamer chair I was sprawled in. I was convinced the table was only here because it’d be a nightmare to move.
I’d always loved a good game of pool though—especially with naive underclassmen like Linc. He was trying so hard to concentrate it was fucking adorable.
He lifted the cue stick, turning to Simon and Kev, who were watching the pool hustle with amusement. “Do you think if I put this through his eye socket, he’d stop crunching?”
“Probably not,” Kev answered. “You know how he is when he’s got the munchies.”
Linc glared as I bit into another chip. “See, this is why you should take up weed,” I said. “It might relax all that tension you have going on.”
“My tension is fine,” he said stiffly while Simon coughed “bullshit” into his fist.
Linc bent over the pool table once more, lining up for a shot to send a striped ball into the right corner pocket. He slid the stick between two fingers, taking aim. Just as he shot it forward, my phone rang.
Linc’s cursing was lost to the clatter of balls. I checked my phone screen, wincing when I saw my dad on the caller ID.
Just seeing his name brought a whole host of feelings to the surface that I’d prefer to ignore—namely, disappointment and failure. As in, I was a disappointment and failure to him. He never said as much, but I could tell with our every interaction.
Still, he’d only call back. It wasn’t as if I could really avoid him. And on the upside, taking the call would mess with Linc’s head even more.
“Hey, Daddio,” I answered, affecting a casual tone even as my body tensed. Linc had caught the edge of a purple stripe but missed his shot. He crossed his arms, leaning back on the table, waiting impatiently. I could see a twitch by his eye. Linc was too easy to mess with. Poor schmuck.
“Cooper, glad I caught you,” Dad said. “I wanted to check in.”
I raised an eyebrow. It was nine p.m., a bit late by my father’s standards, and we’d be seeing each other soon enough. “Aren’t we having brunch Saturday?”
“Actually, no. The alumni lecture series is Saturday afternoon. I’ll be busy with setup in the morning. I was hoping you’d attend.”
I suppressed a groan. No way I wanted to spend my Saturday afternoon listening to some dusty old alum drone on about his business success. Bad enough I’d let Dad persuade me to switch my major to business. Talk about a snore fest. But at least there was less math involved than the engineering major I’d had before that. Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to find the right path.
“Sorry, I’ve got plans.”
I didn’t have to lie. The guys and I were headed over to Geraldine’s house in the center of town. The renovations on her home were of the frat’s philanthropic outreach work that I’d taken over late last year, passed on to me by a graduating senior. It was still early fall, but I wanted to weatherize the exterior of her home—along with one other residence that qualified for assistance—before moving to interior improvements.
“At least come to dinner afterward. I think you’ll enjoy meeting this lecturer.”
“Um…”
“It’s not a request,” Dad said, firming his voice. “Be there. I’m asking Lena too.”
“Okay,” I relented. “Text me where and when.”
“I will. And Coop?”
“Yeah?”
“I talked with Professor Anderson today.”
Wincing, I forced a playful tone. “Talked about my amazing genius in political science, did ya?”
He sighed audibly. “Is there any point where I can expect you to start taking school seriously and stop wasting my tuition money?”
My chest tightened.
