Page 46 of The Frathole
I tuck my phone away as Keegan approaches with Jaxon. We came to the gym together, since Keegan and Jaxon are regulars here too. Jaxon’s put on a lot of muscle thanks to Keeg’s mentoring.
“Chatting up a girl, I imagine,” Keegan says.
“Something like that.” I don’t want to lie to my buddies, but also, none of their business what’s going on with Marty and me…not that either of us really understands that anyway.
We get to chatting, and while they’re doing bench presses, I figure it’s a good chance for us to spot each other. I’m curious what Marty replied, so while Jaxon spots Keegan, I check my phone.
Marty: I may be a lot of things, but jealous isn’t one of them.
Marty: Know what, it doesn’t matter. If you’re around tonight, I could show you some more tango moves.
Me: Needy for it all of a sudden, huh? I must be that good.
I imagine how that’ll get under his skin, but I’d rather be doing that in person.
He doesn’t reply right away—I assume he’s busy at Activate Kindness now—so I hit the locker room and change before heading out to meet up with my parents.
When I get there, about an hour from Peachtree Springs, I park in front of the picturesque two-story house. The place where I was raised.
Where Dad and I used to spend time out back throwing the ball around.
Where we would open Christmas presents in the living room, by the bay window.
Where I used to have to time things just right, like a spy, to sneak girls up into my room in high school.
Spending so much time at school and work these days, it’s nice to come back every once in a while. My home—my family—always grounds me, no matter what else may be going on in my life. Plus, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen Mom and Dad at the same time. Feels like she’s been really busy with friends recently.
Dad greets me at the door. “How’s my champ, huh?”
Well, he’s messing around with guys now.
A guy, at least, but not something I have to share with my parents right away. Would prefer to get a handle on this first, get an idea of what’s happening between Mart and me.
Dad pats me on the back, ushering me inside. “Must be killing you waiting for the draft. And we need to make some time so I can see where you’re at with training.”
“Yeah, sure.”
That’s a topic I was hoping to bring up over dinner. At least plant the seed, let him know I’m reconsidering going pro so he’s not blindsided later. But first, I’d rather just enjoy the afternoon with them than…I don’t know…crush Dad’s NFL dreams.
We step into the kitchen, where Mom’s standing in a skirt and blouse, her hair and makeup done, which isn’t the norm. She’s more of a ponytail-and-jeans kind of mom.
“Were you out?” I ask her as I approach for a hug.
“With some friends for brunch.”
“Friendsandbrunch? Wow. You are all over the place these days.”
She searches around uneasily, which catches me off guard, as though I said something that made it awkward, but I can’t imagine what that could have been.
“Sit down,” she says. “It’s been too long since we’ve talked. We have so much to catch up on.”
I settle at the table, expecting Dad to mosey on over to the oven to finish with dinner and Mom to sit and talk with me like we normally do, but they both sit, their expressions tense, and I quickly recognize what this is.
“What is going on?”
Dad winces. “Why do you look worried?”
“Not sure. This reminds me of how you sat me down after you found that condom in my room.”
