Page 13 of The Quarterback
Colton looked him up and down. Nick was in his usual business casual getup, chinos and a polo shirt. The cut was different now, thanks to Justin’s new wardrobe, the pants flat front rather than pleated—“Dad, Jesus, it’s not 1943 anymore”—and skinny fit. The polo was athletic wear, as if he’d just come off the golf course, and hugged his shoulders and biceps.
The day Justin took him to buy a new wardrobe had been embarrassing for both him and Justin, though in different ways. “You have a decent body, Dad. I mean, you’re mydad, so I can’t look at things like that, but, like, see?” Justin had waved his hand at Nick’s reflection in the mirror. He’d been in his boxers and an undershirt and socks, frowning at the mountain of clothes Justin had picked for him to try on. “That’s not the body of a typical forty-three-year-old. Work what you have, Dad.”
He was trying. For who, he didn’t know. For himself, maybe. It felt good to feel good again.
“It’s better,” Colton said simply.
Nick snorted. “Okay, other than the gala, when you were in a tux, I have never seen you in anything other than athletic shorts and T-shirts, and most of those had the sleeves cut off. Which, according to my son, went out of style sometime in the eighties.”
“Cutoffs are always in style for athletes.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm.” Colton was grinning again. He was, in fact, wearing one of those cutoff T-shirts, his sculpted pecs and bulging deltoids and bursting traps popping out of the ratty fabric. At least on his left side.
“I don’t think I can accept fashion criticism from a guy who wears basketball shorts and torn shirts. Do you dress like that to go to class?”
“Of course not. I put a hat on.” Colton raked his fingers through his long hair. “Can’t go out looking like a mess.”
“My mistake. Brim backward or forward?”
“Pfft. Backward. Of course.” Colton rolled his eyes. He was smiling so hard Nick could see his molars.
“You’re right. What a silly question.” It was Nick’s turn to chuckle and roll his eyes. “Do you even own a suit?”
“Yeah, I’ve got one. From freshman year. We have to wear them during the season.”
“Funny, I never saw you wearing it.”
“You weren’t around.” Colton shrugged, then frowned. He pointed to himself. “So, wait, you’re saying I can’t show up to the internship like this?”
“Sorry to say, but you’re going to need to wear sleeves at a minimum. I’d like some long pants, too, but I’ll settle for actual sleeves. Some people in the office might like the look you’re sporting, but it’s not what you’d call professional. I would get complaints.”
“Bet I could sell a few mobile networks, though.” Colton flexed his left arm and pretended to kiss his bicep. Nick laughed. “I’ll need to go buy some clothes.” Colton sighed. “Think Justin can help me match some button-downs with these shorts?”
“If anyone can, he can, but I’d like to see the lecture he’ll give you when you try. I thought plaid shorts were still in style, and when he saw I had a pair to try on, he went off like I had committed a war crime.”
“Dude, no one wears plaid shorts anymore! Not even the frat boys from Kappa Kappa Psi!”
Nick threw his hands in the air. “I can’t win. Evenyouknew not to wear plaid shorts.”
“Of course I know. I’m the epitome of style, bro.”
They both snorted as Nick offered the last of his fries to Colton, who scarfed them down. Colton wiped his greasy hands down the front of his T-shirt as Nick used a napkin. He shook his head, trying to smother his smile.
“Okay,” Colton said, slowly pushing to his feet and crossing his bedroom. He turned on his TV and grabbed a PlayStation controller from the charging cradle. “You know how to play anything?”
“I peaked before there were numbers attached to these things.”
“Ha.” Colton tossed him the controller. Nick held it like it was an octopus trying to escape. “PS2 came out twenty years ago. I know you know the basics. All guys play. It’s in, like, our DNA or something.”
“Twenty years ago, I had a newborn. My gaming days were in the rearview mirror. The last system I played on was the Nintendo 64.”
Colton’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow,” he said. “Thatisold. I saw one of those in a museum.”
Nick waited. No, Colton wasn’t teasing. “Thanks.”
“Well, the N64 controller had a joystick, so you’ve got that going for you, at least. Same principle. Now, there’s two joysticks on this here modern contraption.” He plopped back onto the couch beside Nick, holding out his PS4 controller for Nick to see. “I can’t play one-handed, so you’re going to have to play for me. I’ll show you how.”
