Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“What’s wrong?” she asks, pulling away. “You got stiff.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Which is only half true. I’m good, better than I have been in a long time, but that’s because of Lucas, which then turns my head into this war zone that doesn’t give me a moment’s peace.
We head to the living room, and I take a seat on the couch in my favorite corner. This couch is the first one I bought her when I got money and she moved into this house, and years later, she still has it. That’s how my mom is. Her place isn’t flashy, and she keeps things forever, even when they’re old and should be replaced. I always remind her I would give her anything, and even if I couldn’t, she has more money herself now, but she’s so used to not having anything that she lives well below her current means. And I love that about her.
I feel her gaze on me, so I turn to her, see her smiling in this mom way. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing. You just look good. I can’t put my finger on it…lighter or something. Like you’re not carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, the way you’re known to do.”
I roll my eyes, but really, her words make my heart twitch. Do I seem lighter? Desmond mentioned it as well, and I feel it, despite the guilt. I can’t explain how I can feel both those things simultaneously, but I know it’s because of Lucas. Football is fun again. I wasn’t sure I could get that back, but I have, which makes everything feel even better. “You see how I’ve been playing. That would make anyone happy.” And that’s another part of it, obviously. I’m having the best season I’ve had in years. Even when we lose a game, my stats are on point.
“That’s true, but it feels like more than that. Even when I talk to you on the phone. It’s like…my boy is back.”
I look away. “I didn’t go anywhere, Mom.”
“Yes and no. You’ve been through a lot; of course it affected you. All I ever want is for you to be happy. You know that, right?”
I nod, thankful that she’s my mom, that she wouldn’t care what I want to do with my life as long as I’m happy. Even when I came out as bisexual. I worried about how the world would take it, how football would take it, how Coach Blake would take it, but I never worried about her.
“I do. And you’re right, things are good, and it’s not only because of football, but also…” How can I say what I mean without bringing up Lucas?
“You don’t have to feel guilty if you’re happy, Hunter. And you don’t have to feel guilty about moving on. I know you loved Ellis, and he loved you. He was such a good friend, but he’s gone, and you’re alive. You can remember what you had and still give yourself a chance at a future. You’ve spent the last few years like you’re afraid to be happy, afraid to move on. That’s no way to live. Ellis wouldn’t want that.”
My vision blurs as a tear sneaks free. I wipe it away, hoping no others escape. Would Ellis want me to be happy and move on if it’s with Lucas? Is that even what I want? Why can’t all this be easier?
“I know, Mom. Thanks. Right now, I’m…trying to figure out who the hell I even am anymore.”
“You’re Hunter King. The best son in the world. The best friend, boyfriend, running back—even if you never touched a football again. Everything else can change or grow.”
Despite her not knowing what’s actually going on, talking to her helps. We enjoy a couple of hours together before I have to head to the Blakes’, then back to the hotel. Technically, I should be eating dinner with the team, but they make an exception because of who Coach Blake is and how I’m like a son to him.
“I love you,” I tell Mom as we say goodbye.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
It’s not until I’m in the rideshare that I realize what she said. “He was such a good friend.” Why had she called Ellis a good friend and not boyfriend?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Hunter
For the first time since meeting Ellis’s folks, I’m nervous to see Coach Blake and Abbie. After Ellis died, I was sad seeing them, felt guilty, but I was too heartbroken to be nervous. Today, though, it’s all I can concentrate on.
I ring the doorbell, knowing it will be Abbie who answers. They’ve always kept very traditional roles in the Blake household.
If Ellis had been with anyone but me, I don’t know if Coach would have accepted him. It’s also why he struggled with Lucas so much. He couldn’t understand why a kid who showed natural talent for football—this masculine, perfect sport in his mind—would rather take photos, or lie in the grass and look at the sky, or go to museums. He always tried to toughen Lucas up, not realizing that Lucas has always been tough—tougher than Ellis and me, honestly, because he has always insisted on being himself.