Page 47 of Big Man on Campus

The shocked look on his face would be comical if I didn’t feel like I want to hurl, feel the acrid bad taste of betrayal in my mouth. Then his face goes graveyard serious.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I told you it’s a long story. Not now.”

He slaps me on the back, shaking his head. “Your funeral, man. But okay. I’ll go along.” He hesitates and I know he has something else to say, but he stays in place while a few of the guys tap us on their way out, saying their good-nights and see ya at Wildbeasts later. I nod, not sure if I’ll get there.

Totally fucking uncertain about what the night is going to bring. Fitz clears his throat like he has something difficult to say. My roiling gut knots up a notch tighter.

“I don’t believe I’m asking this, but is Glory going along with it? Is she cool with it?” I smile and let out a breath because the man is a true bleeding heart.

“Don’t worry, pal. It was her idea.” I stand, letting that sink into his shocked sensibilities.

“This is so fucking messed up. I’m so glad I’m not you right now and I don’t even know what’s going on.” He shakes his head hard, like a dog shedding water. Part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity. Until I remember my dad and mom are out there waiting for me. Separately. Nothing is more fucked up than that.

My mother and father stand apart, dad’s wife hanging on his arm and aunt Theresa holding onto my mother. Dooley and Phoebe show up. Her back is stiff and her face tense like it’s frozen in the uneasy smile, which isn’t like her because she’s always poised. It’s why she does well in front of the camera for the campus news. Dooley is his usual self, his smile genuine and easy, no tension apparent on his face, no doubt enjoying the drama.

“Good game, son.” Dad steps forward, so I give him a hug, then nod at Tamara.

“I met your girlfriend Phoebe,” Tamara says. “She’s a doll. We’d love to take you both to dinner with us.”

My eyes flash to Mom and she blinks, her mouth parting in shock. She met Phoebe once last semester, but I’d told her it was over between us. It’s my turn to flinch when I see her smile at Phoebe, a wash of relief loosening her features.

“I’m sorry, Tamara, Dad. I have other plans.”

“Surely you can make an adjustment, go out with your friends a little later,” Dad says, his smile not dampened in the least. He’s a tough nut to discourage. Before I make another attempt, Mom speaks up.

“Maybe Kace and Phoebe would rather go to dinner with me and Theresa,” she says, in direct challenge to Dad, turning this into a competition, more about winning than about spending time with me. Anger flares and I fist my hands. Dad laughs at her, not helping at all. Aunt Theresa looks alarmed and Phoebe stiffens at my side, moves closer.

Stepping away, I take a breath, ready to set everyone straight.

“I don’t feel comfortable choosing which parent to have dinner with.” I volley my glance back and forth between them. “And I shouldn’t have to. We’re all adults and until we can all have dinner together after a game, don’t ask.” I heave a breath and raise a hand to cut off my dad when he’s about to say something. “Like I said, I already made plans.” Phoebe smiles at me, but I don’t return it. Pressing her advantage, she moves closer and I flinch. Defensemen fly at me from across the rink at forty miles an hour and crash into the boards with me every single game and I don’t flinch.

But Phoebe makes my skin crawl right now, thinking she can fake her way back into a relationship.

I give Mom and Aunt Theresa a hug. Aunt Theresa whispers in my ear that she hopes things work out for me romantically whoever I choose. I squint my eyes at her and she winks.

“We’ll plan things better next game,” I say and then I leave. Phoebe clutches my arm and follows, but as soon as we disappear around the corner and close in on the back exit, I stop and swing around to face her.

“What the fuck, Phoebe? Tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Ask Glory about it, Kace. It was all her idea and it’s a damn good one if you ask me. You saw how your parents reacted to me. Maybe they know what’s best for you.”

I shake my head. This girl is clueless about how I feel and it’s all my fault for trying to stay friends with her, for not knowing better than that. I take a deep breath and calm down.

“No. They don’t. They’re more fucked up than you or I.”

“Glory told me about Sky,” she blurts out.

The words slash across my soul. I rock back on my heels as if she’s shoved me. She reaches out and holds my arms.

“I’m so sorry, Kace. I had no idea about the accident, you never said anything. Maybe I always knew something was off. I should have—”

“No. stop.” I can’t listen to another word. Hearing Phoebe mention Sky’s name is too disorienting. She doesn’t know Sky. She’ll never know Sky, who she was, what she was like, that she invented grilled bologna and potato chip sandwiches. Phoebe has no right to say her name.

“Why did she tell you?” I ask the question and know the answer before I finish.

“Because… she had to convince me to go along with the charade. She told me your parents hated her and I didn’t believe her. Who would hate Glory? It’s like saying you hate kittens.” She shrugs. I swallow hard, wondering how much Glory told, hoping to hell she didn’t talk about the drunk driving part of the accident.