Fake It 'Til You Break It

“Are you already on your way?”

“Yes, yes,” she huffs. “I’m on my way.”

The line goes dead.

With a sigh, I stuff my phone back in my pocket and let Carley know I’ll be back in a few minutes.

As I should have expected, a few turns into more, and before I know it, the scoreboard sounds, indicating the end of the fourth quarter, and still, my mom isn’t here.

I try calling her for the third time, but she doesn’t answer, so I text her.

Of course, she responds to that instantly.

Mom: sorry, be there in five.

I scoff, shoving it in my pocket.

It’s not long before Carley steps out the gate, followed by a crowd of other game goers. “She’s still not here?” she snaps.

“Says she’ll be here in five.”

She shakes her head. “Tell her I’ll take you home right now to meet her, she’s probably still there.”

“It’s fine.” I pass on the offer. “She’ll just get stressed out and act like an asshole.”

Macy and Krista are out the gate in the next second, their bags slung over their shoulders.

“Hey!” Krista smiles. “You guys ready to go?”

We’re supposed to be going out for pizza and talking final plans for her birthday, but I’m annoyed now, and my head is pounding. “I’m bailing, I have to wait for my mom. Call me if you need me, though.”

“Are you sure?” Macy asks. “We can wait or you can meet us later?”

“I’ll only be a buzz kill, and who knows what kind of mood she’ll be in.”

“How you gonna get home?” Carley asks.

“She can drop me on her way out. You guys go, I’m fine.”

They nod, move in for a hug and then they’re gone.

A half hour later, when the parking lot is near empty other than the cars of the senior players, the clean-up crew, and traveling team’s bus, my mom sends another text.

Mom: found the cash in your drawer, so I won’t be stopping by. Be safe, have fun.

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes at my screen, shoving it in my pocket as I kick off the fence.

Love you, too.

“I make you that sick, Little D?”

My head snaps left to find Nico walking out from the other side of the building, his football bag hanging from one hand, protein shake in the other.

“Parents.” A tight laugh leaves me, and I glance away with a frown. “They’re... annoying.”

“I heard that,” he says, and my stare moves back to his. “Where’re your friends?”

“Gone. Where are yours?” I sass back, glancing behind him, but nobody follows.

“Getting chewed out by Coach.”

“Yet here you stand.”

“I don’t make mistakes,” he says straight faced, giving a simple shrug.

“Right.” I nod and keep past him. “Well, see you tomorrow.” I guess.

“There’re no cars in the parking lot the way you’re walking, Davenport,” he calls out after a few seconds.

I spin around as he steps closer to his truck.

“Because I’m doing just that, Sykes. Walking.”

He tosses his bag in the back, leaning his forearms on the bed. “I’m taking you home.”

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

My head tugs back. “Excuse me?”

He ignores me, walks around his truck and pulls the passenger door open, his eyes cutting back to me. He lifts his chin expectantly.

This guy.

“I said I was fine.”

“And I said I wasn’t asking,” he snaps back, stern-faced. “You’re not walking home alone in the fuckin’ dark.”

“I’ll survive.”

“You’ll get in.”

When I don’t move but cross my arms, his eyes narrow farther, his words as sharp as his gaze.

“I’m going the same way. I live right fuckin’ behind you.” He’s annoyed. “We don’t even have to talk. In fact, I hate talkin’ after a game.”

“As opposed to what, your usually chatty self?” I joke.

He blinks. “Game’s over, your friends are gone. Let’s go.”

That’s right, the game just ended...

“You know what,” I think out loud. “I’ll wait for Trent, have him drive me.”

Nico frowns. “Trent got a ride with someone else.”

He moves his hand to the rim of the door, eyes on me as a cloud of warning settles over him.

He won’t ‘allow’ me to walk.

With an annoyed growl, I cave.

It’s not like I wanted to walk home, I’d have brought my own car had I known the night would end like this. Still, riding with Nico isn’t the ideal way home.

He makes me anxious... or something.

I walk over, slide into the seat and glare up at him when he blocks me from reaching for the handle to yank it shut. “Happy?”

“Why would this make me happy?”

“Because you win.”

He lowers, bringing his face even with mine, and I pull in a lungful of air.

“I always do.” His voice is a sultry whisper. “Might wanna get used to that, D.”

He slams the door.

Cocky bastard.

I begin buckling as he steps around to climb into the driver’s seat.

Right as Nico shifts the truck into drive, the rest of the team spills around the corner, but we’re out of the parking lot before they reach the curb.