Page 57 of Third and Ten

He groans again, his head rolling back onto the headrest. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are, now. What and how much did you drink?”

“Just a few swigs. One of the guys…he had some bottles in his car.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer, and his chest rises and falls as he drifts off. “E?” I reach over and shake his shoulder to wake him.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you drink so much, Ethan?”

He lets out a deep breath. “I was just so nervous, you know, because of Caidence. And then I started thinking about Pop, and my mom…and my biological dad. He’s been calling me.”

“So, you just wanted to take the edge off, then?” I huff. “And instead, you ruined Caidence’s night and made yourself sick.” I know I’m being a little harsh, so I bite my tongue and resign to save my lecture on the dangers of using alcohol to cope with one’s problems for later.

Then I rewind that conversation.

“Ethan, did you just say your biological dad’s been calling you?” As far as I know, that isn’t supposed to be happening. Or, at least, it hasn’t happened before.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Mawmaw wrote him a letter a while back, and he recognized me in the newspaper from earlier in the season, when I scored my first touchdown. We’ve just been talking and stuff.”

Well, maybe it’s okay since Mrs. T wrote him the letter? This goes beyond a coach’s jurisdiction, doesn’t it?

Yet I can see how it’s affecting him from the decisions he’s made tonight.

I sigh and venture on because I already care too much about Ethan to let this go. “And are you okay with that, him reaching out to you?”

“He’s all right so far…it’s just weird.”

“Right. Does your aunt know?” I ask as we pull up in front of their house, but he’s already started heaving again, so I have no choice but to drop the subject.

I get out and walk around the truck, holding my hand up to warn Tenley as she nears. “Give him another minute,” I tell her, and she nods.

“I’m sorry we ruined your night out,” she begins quietly.

“Don’t be sorry. I’d rather be here with you guys, anyway.”

She crosses her arms and looks down, probably embarrassed by my honesty. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine your other friends letting their kid throw up in your Gatorade cooler.”

“You’ve got a point,” I admit with a slight smile. Then I turn and bump my elbow against the window a couple of times to get Ethan’s attention. “Ay, you done in there, or what?”

“No,” Ethan moans, followed by more coughing.

“He’s going to be fine, by the way. He’s half-coherent now, so I’m sure he’ll just need to get a little more out of his system,” I explain.

“Did he tell you what happened?”

As much as I’d do just about anything to get on Tenley’s good side, I’m not willing to throw Ethan under the bus or put my nose where it doesn’t belong. I am worried, though. “He thought he’d drink a little to look cool, and it caught up to him.”

She nods. “I figured as much. I just hope this doesn’t come up in court next week.”

“I seriously doubt anyone would fault you for the kid getting drunk at homecoming. He’s sixteen. It’s not like you bought the alcohol for him. And at least you cared enough to have someone on standby in case this happened, right?” I try to reassure her, but she only nods again. “I’ll help him inside once he’s done in there,” I offer. “But I’m leaving that bucket so he can clean it out and return it in the morning.”

“I assume you’ll need it back pretty early, too?” she asks, her expression amused now.

“Oh, for sure. I’d like to watch him walk it out to the road for the garbage pickup after he does all that work to clean it,” I say, chuckling.

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