The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

A large part of me does hate Troy, but for Dante, I’ll try.

Troy

It’s been three weeks since I’ve moved in next to Dante and I’ve made a little progress. Between my shifts at UPS, practice, school, and our first away game, I’ve had little time to do much more than catch Dante a few hours after school. I’m still the neighbor, so I can’t see him every day, but in doing what I can, I’ve made enough headway that my presence is no longer questionable but more routine. I’m hoping it’s a start. Clarissa has yet to look at me like I’m not shit on her shoe, but she’s no longer watching our every move. Dante comes over once in a while with permission to play Xbox with me. I make good with the time, careful with my words. “Take that, sucker,” Dante utters from his seat next to me, working the controls like a pro as I study him. We look so much alike it’s uncanny, and I take pride in that.

Mom will never forgive you for this.

I’ve never told anyone that I’m a father, not even my mother, who I’m closest to. I have a few reasons. The first is because I’m ashamed of what I’ve done. The second is that she very well would have reprimanded Clarissa for something that was entirely my fault. Pamela Jenner invented the phrase ‘mama bear,’ and in her eyes, her golden boy can do no wrong. But the most important reason is that if I told her, I know she would make it her mission to be a part of Dante’s life, and I have yet to earn that privilege for myself. I don’t want Clarissa to hate me more due to a confrontation with my mom because she is a force to be reckoned with. She’s my best friend, and when I finally do confess, I know it will irreparably break her heart. She’s missed nearly six years of her grandson’s life. But to be fair, so have I. Still, she won’t understand, and there’s no way she’ll ever fully forgive me.

As with Clarissa, there will be no redemption, but I’ll try my damnedest to make amends with them both.

“Did you know?”

Dante eyes me from where he sits on the couch, his feet swinging.

“Know what, little man?”

He rolls his eyes. My eyes. His mother’s eyes. We both have the tricked-out blue. Clarissa’s are lighter. Maybe they’re hers. “The trick I just showed you.”

“No, I didn’t. Good one.”

“You weren’t even listening,” he grumbles.

“Sorry. I was just wondering if you’re hungry?”

He shrugs, his attention back on his game. “I could eat.”

I shake my head. How does a five-year old speak like such an adult? His mother, that’s how. And I love that about her. She’s no bullshit. She wasn’t the night I met her. She’s brutally honest, and though she would never believe it now, aside from my lie and the fact that I lived for ball, I was myself with her. Dante commands respect, much like her, and much like my roommate who walks in the room, dumping his backpack on the floor.

“Sup, guys?” Theo asks, making his way toward the couch.

Dante’s eyes light up. “I showed Troy the trick you taught me.”

“Yeah?” Theo asks, taking a seat next to him. I pass him my controller.

“Grilled cheese?” I ask Dante.

His eyes light up. “Yes, please!”

Pride fills me. Dante has manners in abundance, though I can’t take any credit. Making my way to the kitchen, I hear Dante rambling to Theo.

“Cup your balls, you’re going down.”

Theo cracks up, and I do too. But I know Clarissa wouldn’t appreciate that language. Is this where I begin to parent? And if I do, will it break our new connection and embarrass him? His mother hasn’t given me any privileges yet, so I say nothing. That’s on her. Knowing what I do about Dante already, he wouldn’t take too kindly to discipline from a neighbor.

Dante devours his first grilled cheese and damned near begs for another, so I make myself busy catering to him as he slides into easy conversation with Theo. I think on some level, it’s easier for Theo because he grew up with siblings. I’d been more of a loner up until high school when I started running and hit a growth spurt. High school was easy for me because ball paved the way. It’d been an avenue of wealth after I got my braces off and discovered my talent for catching and running with that pigskin in my hands. I developed then too, along with my taste for pussy and it was a whole different world. I ran with the sudden attention and popularity, especially with the ladies, like every other red-blooded male would, but I wasn’t as privileged as my friends. Always driving my mother’s beat-up Dodge around on the weekends rather than getting my own, so I took and took until I choked on greed. All of that ended the day that fiery redhead slapped it out of me.

I deserved what I got. Karma and all of her friends, especially humility, came and made it known, a man is only as worthy as his last act.

As much as I want to admit I’ve grown up, I do still partake when the pressure gets to be too much. But that’s got its own set of problems.

The front door sounds and I glance at the clock knowing exactly who it is. She doesn’t let Dante hang for more than an hour or two without checking in. Opening the door, I see Clarissa waiting a few feet away as if she’s afraid to approach it. She might be a mama bear by nature, but she’s wary of me. I take note of her form-fitting blue sundress and pink painted toes.

“Hey, you look beautiful.”

She ignores my compliment, her eyes darting past my shoulder. “I, uh, was wondering if Dante could stay a little bit longer tonight?”

“Of course. My shift doesn’t start until two.”