Pax winces. “I haven’t exactly been going.”
She wrinkles her nose, but then nods a couple of times and takes a long drink. “I have a feeling things are going to get uglier. I saw our pictures in the paper this morning. They’re questioning the validity of us being accepted into Brighton.”
Paxton slams a fist against the table. Rae doesn’t jump, but her eyes remain on his balled fist for several seconds before she slowly swallows.
“That’s bullshit,” he barks.
She nods. “It’s total bullshit, but…” She shrugs.
“But what?” Paxton narrows his eyes. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.”
The tip of her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a football god. You could’ve gone anywhere. They won’t be able to contest you being there.”
Paxton runs both hands down his face.
“I’m not telling you because I want you to debate the merits of the lie, I’m telling you because I don’t want you to be blindsided by it.” She places her hands on the table, fingers spread wide. “We need to make some decisions and then move forward. Right now, we’re letting his mistakes dictate our lives, and that’s going to make us all lose.”
Pax sands his hands slowly, the gears in his head turning, struggling to move beyond the past couple of weeks. “I’m so fucking pissed,” he says.
Rae nods. “I know.” She runs her hands over her hair, narrow fingers tangling and then untangling in the strands I’d raked my fingers through just last night. I realize I’ve seen her do this before, when she’s talked about unethical fishing and difficulties the whales face, when she was cornered at her first college party and was trying to laugh and act casual, when I’d told her nothing could happen between us because she was Paxton’s little sister. I take a drink of my water, wishing it was a straight shot of Patron because sometimes being around her makes me notice too much. Care too much. Feel too much.
Then she refuses to look at me, her gaze cast on the varnished table top checkered with colorful tiles. I don’t think it’s intentional or a way of forcing me to remain out of her thoughts, it’s simply a condition of her impossibly stubborn and independent nature.
“I don’t know what we should do. Poppy says we should talk to Dad and forgive him, not for his sake but for our own.” She crooks her jaw to the side, a subtle lift of her shoulders. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet, but I don’t want it to stop you.
“You can’t let him and his actions get into your head and ruin your future. You’ve worked too damn hard to let everything fall apart right now. You have two games left, so if you don’t want to think about it until after the season, don’t, but you can’t let this ruin everything.”
He shakes his head, a sour twist of his lips. “This is about football? Who cares about football?”
“You do,” she says. “You care. This has been your dream since you were six.”
He shakes his head again, this time faster. Rae reaches out, placing a hand on his arm. “I feel so fucking stupid,” he says. “Thousands of families are worse off. Broken and filled with lies, and I know I’m being a fucking wimp because I can’t pull my head out of my ass and this idea of a perfect family, but that’s what I want. That was my security. I knew no matter what happened, I had my family.”
“You still do,” she tells him, her voice thick with emotions that swim in her eyes. “I will always be here, and so will mom, and so will Maggie.”
Pax drops his face into one palm. It’s the weakest I’ve ever seen him. It’s also the strongest, as he continues to list his feelings without hesitation or regret before burying his face into the crook of Rae’s neck. She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, the other going around his shoulders.
There are dozens of moments I’ve been jealous of Paxton, watching him interact with his family—they stuck by him, going above and beyond so many times, and his relationship with both Maggie and Rae has always been solid—but watching them together now has me recognizing exactly how strong their bond is. It evokes a splintering pain of jealousy and fear as I realize she will always choose him, and for his benefit, I’m grateful to know that, yet the hollow feeling in my chest where the thought continues to echo leaves me feeling empty.
28
Raegan
I’m supposed to be at Poppy’s in fifteen minutes. Guilt beats in my chest, knowing I should be there to call her and explain what happened because, like Paxton, I owe Poppy the truth after her endless support and friendship. If I leave now, I can make it, but Pax asks if I’ll watch tape with him, and my priorities realign without a second thought.
I quickly send an apology to Poppy, asking to reschedule, and because she’s her, I already know she’ll forgive me too easily.
“Arizona’s going to be gunning for you,” Pax tells Lincoln. “That guy hates you,” he continues as Lincoln pulls back into the driveway that is now nearly empty.
I switch my gaze to Lincoln, who shrugs with a dismissive tip of his lips. We head inside where their robotic vacuum that Mom and Dad bought Pax as a Christmas gift is humming along, chased after by Caleb, who makes quick work of lifting a few cords that he tucks into the TV stand.
“Hey, man. You getting ready to play?” Pax asks.
Caleb shakes his head. “No. I should be doing homework.” He sighs, a mutual feeling we’re all starting to feel toward school as Thanksgiving break approaches.
“You mind if we put on some football?”
“I thought you were meeting Poppy?” Caleb asks, turning his attention to me, which has both Pax and Lincoln looking at me.
“I rescheduled. But, I’m wondering if I can pick your brain later. I know you took Statistics as a freshman, and I’m hoping you can explain it all to me because when my professor talks, it sounds like Latin.”
Paxton chuckles and ambles to the TV, where he rifles through a stack of DVD cases.
Caleb shakes his head. “You know math isn’t my strong suit, either. You should hit Linc up. He took that class. He’s got, like, a computer brain where that shit makes sense to him.”
As though Lincoln needed extra points toward being a superhuman. Lincoln’s grin hints at something that makes my cheeks flush. “I think I’ve even got my textbook, still. I’ll tutor you.” His gaze flashes down the length of me, blatantly taking his time to scour my body.
Pax claps two of the cases together to a silent beat as he waits for the disc to load, making me jump. Lincoln remains unabashed, his lips pulling into a smile that makes my belly clench.
As Pax turns back around, I clear my throat. “Mom texted me this morning.”
“Yeah? She texted me, too.”
I try to smile, but even to me it doesn’t feel complete. “Did she tell you she’s coming home this weekend?”
Pax nods. “To stay with Gramps?”
I nod. “I didn’t know whether to offer to help her move stuff or if that would upset her.”
“I think she’ll have to move her stuff. I don’t know if he’ll keep the house. I mean, since he’s lost his job, I don’t know if he can afford it long-term.”