Somethin' About That Boy

“Well, you could’ve come and gotten me!” I threw my hands up.

My dad shook his head. “Nothin’ wrong with your legs, girl.”

I played the pity card and turned to show him my arm. “I fell going down the bleachers today. Banner didn’t want me to walk.”

Banner coughed underneath his breath, and I smacked him with my hand and glared at him.

“Don’t say a word,” I ordered him with my eyes.

He held up his hands in peace, then walked over to my dad and offered him his hand.

My dad took it with his prosthesis and narrowed his eyes.

“She was watching you in your sweatpants again, wasn’t she?” he accused. “Wasn’t paying attention where she was going ‘cause she was watchin’ you and fell.”

My mouth fell open.

“You did not just say that!” I all but screeched.

Dad grinned at me. “I heard you talkin’ to your friend. It’s not my fault you’re so loud.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

I could feel my face flaming, though.

“I’m actually not sure, sir,” Banner admitted. “I was running bleachers with her. She was fine when I passed her.”

Dad all but guffawed.

“I like you, kid. Want to stay for dinner?” he asked.

Banner opened his mouth, but before he could I said, “Who’s cooking?”

Dad looked at me with a roll of his eyes. “Domino’s. Duh.”

Banner grinned. “I’d love to stay. But just fair warning. I eat a lot.”

Dad eyed Banner. “What’s ‘a lot?’”

“A lot is an entire large pizza all by myself,” he said.Chapter 10

My neighbor’s diary says that I have boundary issues.

-T-shirt

Perry

“Perry!”

I whipped my head toward the door—we hadn’t even been in my room for two seconds before he’d called my name.

“Yeah?” I asked worriedly.

“Mom and I are going out to Andy’s for ice cream. Don’t make any babies while I’m gone. I’m too young to be a grandfather,” Dad called up the stairs.

My mouth fell open in shock.

Banner, however, thought my father was hilarious.

“That’s awesome,” Banner said as the front door closed on my father’s amused chuckle.

I rolled my eyes.

“You think it’s funny that my father thinks that we’re going to be having sex in here while he’s gone?” I asked. “Because that’s really embarrassing for him to make that assumption. I’ve known you for like a week.”

His lips twitched. “You’ve known me for a week, yes. But you’ve also met somebody that is very responsible. And your dad knows that.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked curiously. “Responsible people still have sex.”

My parents did.

Which was disgusting to even think about.

But they did it, and I had to sometimes hear it.

He snorted and walked around my room, pausing at my last volleyball trophy that I got the previous summer.

“First place?” he asked. “This isn’t your team. Did y’all move?”

I shook my head. “It’s my club team. The Raiders. I play with them from February to July.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “Gotcha. Club. I didn’t even know that volleyball had a club team.”

I wasn’t really sure how we’d found out about it either, but I was so freakin’ glad that I did. I loved it.

The Raiders were more my team than the Kilgore High School team was.

“The club team is kind of an unspoken thing around here. We have the team, but you have to know about it and try out to actually make the team. Symphony tried out once. She didn’t make the team.” I snickered.

His smile was quick as he moved on to the next trophy.

“Cross country?” he asked. “How long have you been doing that?”

I ran my hand over the bedspread.

“Only since junior year,” I told him.

“I haven’t always been a great runner or anything. I kind of forced myself into it because I wanted to have better cardio endurance when I started college.”

“You know where you want to start college at?” he asked, stopping at the window to look out.

I watched the play of muscles on his back as he reached up and adjusted the blinds so he could see out.

“Not in the slightest,” I admitted. “I still have half the year to go before I even want to think about it. I want to get the volleyball season over and get into finals at the end of the year. Then I’ll start looking around.”

“But what about the recruiters that come during the season?” he asked.

I looked at him, seeing his full question on his face.

“Banner,” I snickered. “This is Kilgore 3A girls volleyball. We don’t have recruiters like boys football does.”

He frowned. “None?”

I shook my head. “None. I mean, even the bigger 5A districts probably don’t get many Rebels. But definitely not one with our small population.”

He looked away. “That sucks.”

It did, but it was what it was.

“Do you know what you want to major in?” he asked, finally making it back to the starting point as he looked at my room.