Page 20 of Topping the Jock
I chuckled. “Sounds good. See you in a bit.”
I disconnected the call and placed my phone on the counter before heating up a skillet and tossing the chicken onto it. I filled a separate pan with water and placed it on the other burner to bring it to a boil for the rice.
As the chicken sizzled in the skillet, I grabbed broccoli from the fridge, rinsed it off, and cut it up to add to the dish. My phone dinged, and I glanced at it to see it was from Facebook Messenger.
Montgomery Adams wants to send you a message.
“No way,” I said, sighing. I wiped off my hands and grabbed my phone to open the notification. Monty wasn’t my friend, so his message had gone into the “requests” folder. I had every intention on declining the request… but curiosity got the better of me, and I accepted.
Monty:Hey, you. Bump into any trashcans lately?
I snorted a laugh, then chided myself for doing so. God, he was infuriating.
Me:What I do with trashcans is none of your business.
The three dots moved, signaling he was typing back a response.
Monty:I think you and the trashcan should come on a double date with me and Franklin then.
Damn him. I laughed again right as my front door opened.
“What has you cackling like a little old lady in here?” Dad asked before coming around the corner carrying a twelve-pack of beer and a bag of chips.
“You didn’t have to bring chips,” I said, putting my phone facedown on the counter.
“Sure I did.” He placed the bag on the table. “You like to eat that healthy stuff. The chips are for when I’m still hungry after you feed me.”
“You should stay away from potato chips, Dad. They’re not good for you.”
“Eh.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Besides, who’s the parent here?”
I shook my head and flipped the chicken in the skillet. Another ding came from my phone, and I ignored it. Only because I didn’t want to have to explain it to my dad. He fully supported me being gay. However, if he knew I was crushing on Monty, I doubt he’d be happy about it. I had walked home from school way too many times in tears because of Monty, and my dad disliked him nearly as much as I did—well, as much as I used to.
“I heard from Mark that the Adams boy is back in town,” Dad said, popping open a beer. “Supposedly, he’s coaching the football team. You know anything about that?”
I inwardly cringed, then quietly cleared my throat before answering, “Uh. Yeah.” I walked over to the table and sat beside him, taking a beer for myself. Dad was sure to get beer I could drink. “He’s teaching health class too.”
“Has he given you any crap?” Dad asked, his tone stern. “He’s of legal age now. I don’t mind kicking his rear. You just say the word.”
“Oh God. Stop.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Don’t go kicking anyone’srear,okay? Monty is…” I searched for the right word. “Different. Nothing to worry about. Plus, if anyone was going to kick his ass, it’d be me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know ya can. I just worry over you, kid. I hated not bein’ able to do anything back then. Each time you came home with another bruise or covered in filth from being tossed in the damn dumpster, I felt so helpless and pissed off. The school was so far up Russell Adams’ ass that they let his bully of a son push you around with no consequences. Everyone in that school can suck a big fat one for all I care.”
“Dad,” I said, shocked. He only talked like that when he was really mad. “I promise. Everything’s okay. And I like the people I work with. They’re not the same ones who turned a blind eye back then. As for Monty, he’s been nothing but nice to me since the semester started.”
“Well, he better thank his lucky stars.” Dad took a drink of beer. “He just saved himself from an ass whoopin’.”
“Calm down,” I said, laughing. “Eat a chip. Being hungry makes you grouchy.”
I appreciated his concern, though. He was only looking out for me because he loved me. Not every kid could say the same about their dad. Reed sure couldn’t. His dad had been in and out of jail all through our school years. My dad had pretty much taken Reed under his wing once Reed’s dad was sent to prison, and he’d had to move in with his aunt.
I stood from the table and went over to check the chicken. “Food should be done in about five minutes.”
“Good. I’m starving.” He popped open the bag of chips and ate a few.
While he munched and went into the living room to turn on the TV, I flipped my phone over to check the notification I’d heard after Dad had walked in.
Monty:In all seriousness… I liked talking to you today. I know you don’t like me, and that’s cool, but I hope we can talk again sometime.
