“What’s the deal with you and your dad? You two always seemed so buddy-buddy.”
“Oh, we were as long as my dreams matched his dreams,” he answered sarcastically.
“What do you mean?” I asked, taking my seat.
“Just stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Stuff that’s way too intense to talk about now,” he said, looking around the room.
I followed his gaze and saw Matt and Alex, a couple of Colton’s friends studying us with scowls on their faces.
“What's the deal with that?” I asked. “Why aren’t you hanging back there with them?” I added, pissed at myself for closing myself off so entirely that I had completely missed what was going on around me.
“Just drama, like you said before,” he said, flashing me a smile that fell flat before it could reach his eyes.
“Well, crap, Colton. I’ve sucked as a friend lately, huh,” I said, reaching over to give his hand a light squeeze.
“You kind of had a good excuse,” he said, shooting me a real smile this time.
“Do you want to get together tonight and vent?”
“Can’t. I have to flip burgers tonight,” he said as Ms. Johnson started talking about our next reading assignment.
“How about at lunch?” I whispered as Ms. Johnson cleared her throat for my benefit.
He nodded his head slightly.
***
Colton was waiting for me outside my fourth period class when it ended. “Library or outside?” he asked as we headed toward our lockers to get our lunches.
“How about outside? We can soak up a little vitamin D now that it’s not so wickedly.”
“Just like a chick, always thinking of her tan,” he joked.
“Ha-ha, but I remember a certain guy strutting around all summer without a shirt so he could golden up his pecks,” I teased.
“Um, maybe because we were at the beach,” he said, trying to sound indignant.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I said, nudging him with my hip before we settled underneath one of the endless pine trees scattered throughout the campus. I spread out my jacket before I sat down, not wanting any creepy crawlies thinking I was fair game. I loved living in Florida where we could wear shorts ninety-nine percent of the year, but I could seriously live without the endless supply of bugs.
“So, what’s up with your dad?” I asked, pulling my turkey wrap out of my sandwich bag.
Colton made a production of unwrapping his own sandwich before answering. “He’s pissed that I don’t want to pursue college ball among other things,” he said, skating around the issue as he took a big bite out of his sandwich.
“You don’t?” I asked surprised.
“Nah, let’s face it, I’m just an okay player. I might’ve gotten a partial scholarship at some small school, but I would’ve most likely ridden the bench all four years.”
“That’s not true,” I argued.
“Maybe, maybe not, but it really isn’t my thing,” he said, finishing his sandwich and pulling out his chips.
“So, what is your thing?”
“School,” he said simply.