Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“I love you too, Sunshine,” she said, and I smiled at that childhood term of endearment. “Let me go get the gremlins so they can say goodbye too.”
When I hung up the phone a few minutes later, I took another sip of water and was instantly relieved that my stomach wasn’t trying to eject it. The anti-sickness meds were kicking in, and I decided I needed to get out of this room for a while.
I grabbed my phone and downloaded my emails and found the email from my coach. I put on my slippers and left my room. It was quiet in the hallway for the middle of the day—completely opposite to how the halls were the first few days.
I headed to the cinema room I had yet to visit.
Once there, I sat down in one of the plush chairs. I kept the volume low to not disturb anyone, though in a house this size, I was sure that wouldn’t matter, then kicked back the recliner and connected my phone to the movie screen. In seconds, my team was before me. Sipping on the water I had brought with me, a warm sensation burst in my chest at seeing my teammates came on the screen. My school field was illuminated under the Friday night lights. I itched to be there, dressed in blue and white and leading my boys to victory.
I watched Gavin, the junior QB who’d been forced to take my place. When my mom had mentioned him, I’d been riddled with jealousy, but watching him step up and fill in for me made me feel nothing but guilt. This kid was nowhere near ready for varsity, but he was there when my team needed him—when I needed him while I healed.
I groaned as, only minutes into the game, our offensive line fell away and Gavin got sacked.
“Ouch!” I heard behind me. When I turned my head, Mr. Scott, June’s dad, was standing there watching the screen too.
“Sorry, sir,” I said, and quickly paused the game. “I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”
Mr. Scott shook his head. “You didn’t, son. I was getting Claire a drink and saw that godawful sack. It stopped me in my tracks.”
I laughed and said, “That’s Gavin. My stand-in.”
Mr. Scott moved around the room and took a seat on the recliner beside me. I watched him, my eyebrows pulled down in confusion. He shrugged at me. “June is asleep, and Claire looked halfway there too when I left. I’m sure they won’t mind if I’m gone for a little while longer.”
The mention of June had my stomach tensing. “How is Junebug?”
Mr. Scott fought a smirk, and I kind of wanted the ground to swallow me up.
I wasn’t really experienced with dads. I cleared my throat. “I mean June.”
Mr. Scott shook his head, clearly amused. “Junebug is doing better. Had a rough few days there though.” He regarded me knowingly. “All of you seem to have had a rough few days.”
I fiddled with my cap. “Yeah, but I just couldn’t stay in my room alone anymore.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I saw that same flash of sympathy in Mr. Scott’s eyes that I hated receiving. But I knew he wasn’t pitying me—more just understanding that being sick alone was zero fun.
“I thought you might have been in to see June,” he said.
“I didn’t want to disturb her,” I said.
“Son,” Mr. Scott said turning toward me. The word son felt strange to hear, especially coming from a father figure. It was like a stab in my heart. Mr. Scott, just talking to me, caring about me, a relative stranger, made me realize what a deadbeat mine really was. “I’m pretty sure I’m right when I say this, but my daughter would not think a visit from you would disturb her in the slightest.”
I stopped breathing at that, wondering what June had said to her folks about me. “Erm.” I shifted in my seat. “Well, that’s good to know, sir.”
Mr. Scott smothered his amusement with his hand and pointed to the screen, sitting back in the recliner. “Now, let’s get this game restarted.” He looked over to me. “I have a wife and a daughter that just don’t get football, Jesse.” Mr. Scott patted the arm of his chair. “While we’re here at Harmony, you might have to be my football-watching buddy. That sound good to you?” he asked, and I could barely speak.
This is what a good dad looks like, I thought. The realization that I was missing out on that was heavy on my heart.
“Yes, sir,” I said, my voice gravelly as I tried not to show how his offer had affected me. “It sure as heck does.” I pressed Play on the video and lost myself to the game.