Page 24 of Tackle Me

Later that day, I’m in my dorm, dialing my mom’s number. The worry about her health is a constant presence in the back of my thoughts. She’s been sick, and even though she’s in remission, I can’t shake off the fear that she’s going to get sicker. My brother’s call last week hasn’t helped my nerves with his panic over her.

“Hello,” she groans into the phone.

“Hey, Mom, how are you doing? How are you feeling?” I ask, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

“Oh, Jake, so good to hear your voice. I’m a bit tired, but you know me, always keeping up the fight.” She sounds weary, which I can’t help but notice.

“That’s great to hear, as long as you’re getting better,” I say, keeping it casual so she doesn’t hear my concern.

“Stop worrying about me, sweetheart. Tell me, how’s the new college and football treating you?”

“It’s great, Mom. The team is solid. I still have the same friends.” I pause and chuckle. She always teases me that I change friends too quickly. “And, uh, I might have met someone…” I admit, letting it slip out before I can think better of it.

“Really?” She gives a small, excited yelp. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Who is she?” she asks, but a sudden bout of coughing cuts her words short.. My heart sinks.

“Mom, are you okay? Maybe I should come home and help.”

“Don’t you dare, Jake Reynolds. This is your time to shine, to make something of your career. Your brother is taking good care of me, and he’s taking me to the doctor next week for my follow-up,” she insists.

“But he said you’re not doing too well… Are you sure you’re okay?” I press, hating that I have to say this.

Clearing her throat, she says, “You know I’m a fighter. Our whole family is. Don’t let anything ever stand in your way, understand? And I’m fine,” she reassures me, but I can hear the underlying exhaustion in her voice.

“Thanks, Mom. I love you. Miss you all,” I say, my voice heavy with emotion.

“Miss you too and love you, darling. I better go. Looks like your brother just pulled up in the driveway. He’s checking on me twice a day now. I love it, but sometimes it’s a bit much.” She’s laughing softly. “Okay, speak to you later, bye.” Then we hang up.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, unease still fills me, something I know will linger until we receive her results. But I can’t let myself worry over her cancer returning, or it’ll consume me, and I can’t let that happen. Not when I need to be strong for her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

EMILY

Standing at the bathroom sink, I apply my makeup in the mirror, while occasionally glancing down through messages on my phone from Sarah. Her latest dilemma is about choosing between two guys who are interested in her. The situation is so typically Sarah…it must be hard to have such a problem. I’m laughing to myself as she secretly loves all the attention from the guys.

A new message pops up on the phone screen.

Seriously, Em. How do I even choose? One’s a sweetheart, the other’s an asshole but looks like a god. It’s like choosing between a cozy blanket and a thrilling rollercoaster ride.

I chuckle at her dilemma, reaching for my phone, typing.

Go on a date with each and see who sweeps you off your feet the most.

The moment I hit send, there’s movement at my open bathroom door that catches my attention. Lifting my gaze, I see Dad standing there, a curious expression on his face.

“Going out again?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yep, don’t want to cramp your style by staying home all the time,” I reply with a cheeky grin, adding a final touch to my eyeliner.

“You know, if you’re dating Jake now, how about you bring him home for dinner for a proper meet and greet?” Dad suggests, his tone casual, yet his stare is intense. I meet his eyes in the mirror while putting down my makeup brush.

“That’s weird, Dad. You already know him from football.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean, Emily. To meet the family. Right now, he pops over for two seconds, and you two vanish most nights. It’d be nice to sit down, all of us, for dinner. Especially if this is getting serious.”

“Dad, do we have to talk about this now?” I groan internally.

The idea of bringing Jake over for dinner, introducing him as more than just a friend or one of the guys on Dad’s team, feels strangely intimate and real. And I don’t want to get Dad’s hopes up when I keep reminding myself we’re fake dating just so I can slip out for my band practice. Nope, dinner with my dad is a terrible idea.

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