Chapter 22

Tuesday, I actually saw Coach Bryant, but thankfully I managed to get back around the corner before he saw me. It meant I had to go the long way around to get to class and I only just made it before the tardy bell, but that was preferable to dealing with him. At least Harry gave me a wide berth in conditioning, suggesting my new tactic was working. I knew David had been right and eventually, he’d feel compelled to do something to save face, but for now at least, he was keeping his distance.

Since practice with Chef was back to the same schedule as last year, I’d promised Kat I’d go to her swim practices every day, at least until baseball season started and I had my own practices. It was a little rushed, but without Hanna to hang out with, I wanted to be around to support Kat as much as possible. She was doing a lot better, but this was the first school year she’d have to face with just the two of us and I didn’t want her to have any problems that might slow down her treatment.

I was all set to leave just as her swim practice ended when Chef texted me, canceling practice. Kat had an appointment with Dr. Rothstein right after swim practice, so my day went from being busy to completely open. Since it was only the second day of school, I didn’t have any homework to do.

Normally, that would be a good thing, but with Kat busy, no practice, Mrs. Phillips working, and Hanna off at college, it didn’t give me a lot of options short of going home, which I very much didn’t want to do. I was just going over any other possible options when a voice broke my concentration.

“You’re looking intense,” Sydney said.

I must have been there for a while thinking, because she’d had time to go to the locker room and change clothes before coming back out. I’d noticed her during the practice, and she was better than she’d let on in our previous conversation. She wasn’t at Kat’s level, but she was still very fast and looked to be in the top third of the girls on the swim team.

“Hey,” I said, startled.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, sitting down next to me on the bleachers.

“Yeah, just trying to figure out what to do for the rest of the day. Kat has an appointment and what I had planned got canceled, so now I’m kind of at loose ends.”

“That sounds like a good thing, doesn’t it? I’d love a free day. Why not go home and watch TV or something while you’ve got the chance and just, zone out?”

“My dad is at home and we don’t really get along. Most days I try to stay gone till basically bedtime. I more or less just sleep there.”

“Sorry,” she said, looking slightly embarrassed.

“It’s okay; you had no way of knowing. And it’s not all bad. We just don’t get along and it’s easier to avoid the confrontation.”

“I get it.”

“What are you doing today?” I asked.

“Me? Nothing really. I was just going to go home and read.”

“How about we hang out? That is, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” she said, brightening visibly.

“Kat’s always starving after swim practice; want to get something to eat?”

“God, yes. I don’t have a car, though.”

“I can drive. Did you need to call whoever was going to give you a ride home?”

“My dad picks me up when he gets off work, but that isn’t for another hour, or sometimes longer. Usually, I either sit out here and do homework or go back and sit by the front office. If you don’t mind giving me a ride home, I’ll text him and let him know he doesn’t need to pick me up.”

“Sure,” I said, picking up both our backpacks. “Let’s go.”

She seemed a little surprised when I grabbed her bag too, but then gave a small smile as she fell in behind me.

“Is one of the places at Weaver Square good for you?” I asked, referring to the small complex of fast-food places at the interstate exit.

Our small strip of restaurants and a gas station was the only reason most people who didn’t live here stopped at Wellsville and was a good source of revenue for a town not reliant on the factory or farms. The square also held the bowling alley that was where Rhonda and I had our first date.

“Your pick,” I said as we pulled into the parking lot.

“Taco Corner?” she said questioningly.

“Works for me,” I said, pulling into the spot.

I’d only eaten at the burger place once and had never been to Taco Corner. At first, it was because Mom and I didn’t have the money to eat out; and even after I started making money, I was giving most of it to Mom so she’d eventually be able to quit one of her jobs. She did make me keep a little of it to spend on myself, but I’d also gotten so busy that I didn’t have time to go out and eat.

After ordering a taco and quesadilla combo I turned to Sydney and asked, “What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can get my own food.”

“I invited you. Inviter pays.”

“Ohh ... uhh ... the taco meal, please,” she said, surprised.

This wasn’t a date, so it made sense she didn’t expect me to buy her food or anything. I’m not sure why I did it. Even with my record contract, I wasn’t exactly wealthy. I couldn’t really go throwing money around to impress a girl, even the small amount of money it took to buy some tacos; but it felt like the right thing to do. We got our food and found a table off to one side.

“Are you sure that’s enough food? Kat really puts it away after practice. I bet she eats twice what I do.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. She puts it all out every time she swims and she’s in a lot better shape than me, so there’s no doubt she needs more calories than I do. I mean, I’m just doing this for my P.E. credit, since I like swimming a lot more than running laps and playing dodgeball. She’s going to be in the Olympics one day. We’re not even in the same league.”

Kat didn’t really talk about her swimming much. She’d pushed to have her dad keep paying for her swim coaches, maybe because she thought she should or maybe because she was trying to get everything out of him that she could. We’d talked about it a few times and I think she didn’t really know what she wanted out of it yet. Part of her thought she really did want to try and make something out of swimming, be it the Olympics or something else; and part of her thought it was something her dad had pushed her into so much that she accepted it as a given. That was caused or at least exacerbated by her medical condition. For an ongoing decision like that, if someone pushed it on her for years, she couldn’t tell what she wanted from what the other person wanted.

So far, she hadn’t given it up because she was afraid if she stopped and realized she really did want to try and compete at a serious level, it would be too late to pick it back up. Trying to get to that level of competition required a serious amount of practice. Even going with us this summer had been a risk, and she’d still had to do exercises in the hotel every day to keep from losing her conditioning.

“So you don’t want to continue swimming in college?”

“Probably not. I want to be a vet, and I understand it takes a lot of work to get that degree. Not doctor-level study, but still a lot. I think I’d rather focus on that than swimming. Don’t get me wrong. I do like it, and it’s fun to compete, but I just like other stuff more.”

“So you’re an animal person then?”

“Heck, yes. I love animals. When I was little, I would bring home animals I found all the time. It drove my mom crazy. If it was up to her, we’d have one dog and that’s it. Instead, we have two dogs, three cats, and a bird she absolutely hates.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of animals.”

“As my mom points out all the time. She makes me take care of them, feeding them, cleaning the bird’s cage, and everything; but I don’t mind. I actually love it. People are great, but animals love you with everything they have. It’s fantastic.”

“You’re adorable,” I said, laughing.

“Shut up,” she said, matching my laugh.

“I’m serious. You really do love animals. I think it’s cute. Some people say they like animals, but the way you talk about them, it’s clear you really do. Since we lived on the move my whole life, until last year, we’ve never had any animals; but I think it’s great you’re such an animal person.”

“I guess,” she said, with a shrug, getting suddenly shy.

“Seriously. I think it’s great you want to be a vet and know what you want to do. Gives you a goal to work towards. You should have seen Hanna applying to college. She was just going to get a basic liberal arts degree or something, because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. It was stressful for her mom.”

“But she figured it out?”

“Yeah. She started seeing some of the back-end stuff we were dealing with, working with clubs, the finances of it and everything, and really liked it. She got accepted into UNC’s business school. She’s working on a business degree with a focus on talent management.”

“Really? Does she want to work with you specifically?”

“For her degree? No. She knows that a lot can change in four years, and she is smart enough to not bank everything on where I might be in my career. If she can work with me, that’d be great; she’s been talking to some of the people at my label and worked as a kind of intern manager for us on our tour. That allowed her to make contacts and get practical experience. It will give her a leg up when it comes to getting in with one of the talent agencies or record labels.”

“See, you’re talking about us knowing what we want to do when you’re actually doing what you want to do. You’re out there touring and have a record contract and everything. We’re still kids, dreaming of going to college and you’re actually doing it.”

“I got lucky, and I’m a long way from having this be something I can support myself with. I told you my dad had a record contract, and what happened to him? We were barely living hand to mouth out of an RV until he went away and Mom settled us down here. As careers go, it wasn’t exactly booming.”

“Went away?” she asked.

My circle of friends was pretty small and they knew all about my dad at this point, so I didn’t really think about having to explain to someone that my dad killed someone or was in prison. Had I thought about it, I probably would have kept that to myself for a while longer, since this wasn’t exactly a great topic for a first conversation getting to know someone.

“Uhh, yeah. He went to jail after a bar fight. He was set to be in a long time until his case got overturned because of the judge doing something illegal.”

“Ohh.”

“Yeah, I know. We don’t exactly get along, especially since he got back.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Why would you? He’s only been back a few weeks and all he does is sit around the house doing nothing.”

“I guess, I mean, I didn’t mean to bring up a bad subject.”

“It’s okay. Not everything is great all the time and pretending the bad stuff doesn’t exist doesn’t make it go away or make me feel any better.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.”

“I mean, it’s that or stay in bed and feel sorry for myself.”

“I know more than a few people who’d do just that, plus crying. Being able to put it behind you and get on with your life is great.”

“Ha, I hope you feel the same way when I end up killing him for stepping over the line one too many times,” I said, trying to break the tension.