Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(64)

His mom sat beside him. “So why don’t you tell me what happened.”

Letting his shoulders droop, he exhaled, and then he gave her the entire story, from the rules he and Zara had agreed to on the first date to the fun they had on the other dates to the barbecue with the team to the fight.

“She said some things. I said some things. Then it got ugly and she told me to leave.” His whole body ached, every single muscle and bone, as if he’d been picked up by a tornado and thrown against Mount Rushmore. “Like an idiot, I stormed out and never looked back.”

How could he have done that? He should have stayed. Pleaded his case. Instead, he’d just quit on her.

“Do you know why I picked out Zara from all of the bios I saw on Bramble?” his mom asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Because she was honest about what she wanted,” she said. “Sure, it was a little more straightforward about things I really don’t need to know about, but she presented herself as she was without apology. That’s something to be appreciated and respected. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you get to take away their agency. It’s a hard lesson to learn, believe it or not.”

She tapped her finger three times on his leg. It was their code since he’d gotten to that age where having his mom tell him she loved him in public just seemed like one more thing to get embarrassed about. Instead, it was three taps for “I love you.” He tapped her on the knee right back.

“Do you love Zara?”

“Yeah,” he said, not even needing to think about it. “I do.”

“Does she love you?”

There was that gut punch again. “I don’t know.”

“So you apologize and you make amends. Then you hope for the best.” She tapped him three times again. “Life is like hockey—you put in the preparation, you put in the work, and you pray like hell that the calls will go your way.”

“And when they don’t?”

“You play harder.” She grinned at him. “Do you remember that awful middle school teacher you had?”

Yeah, he wasn’t likely to forget that prick ever. “The one who didn’t care about teaching because he was about to retire? Yeah, he was awful.”

His mom raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “He wasn’t about to retire. He was forced to when I found out what was going on and how he was treating you at school because of your dyslexia.”

“How?” Then he remembered who he was talking to. His mom was a master tactician. “You found a way.”

“Always. And I would have sooner if I would have known. I wish you’d have felt you could come to me. There’s nothing, nothing, in the world that I wouldn’t do for you. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner.”

“I should have said something,” he said, shaking his head at the nervous little boy afraid of sticking out in any way. He wasn’t that kid anymore, but how much had he really changed?

“Well, prove that’s a lesson learned by not letting it happen again,” his mom said, the tone in her voice proclaiming she was back in coach mode. “You can’t keep how you’re feeling bottled up again. You have to let Zara know how you feel.”

He sat up, the wheels already turning in his head. It was the beginning of the third period. He still had time. He could fix this.

…

Zara knew she was in trouble when her dad showed up at her door with Gemma.

Okay, so she’d spent most of the past forty-eight hours since her fight with Caleb in front of her TV binge-watching The Great British Bake Off while eating chocolate frosting right out of the can. She hadn’t returned calls. She’d ignored social media. She’d deleted her Bramble app because the little dings of her notifications reminding her to go on date number five made her hiccup-cry. Even with all of that, she’d managed to pretend just well enough to fool her pride that she’d been right and everything would work out.

However, the moment she opened her door and found her dad and Gemma, she burst into tears. Both of them freaked out while Anchovy tried to give her a ball. It was the Ice Knights ball Caleb had given him. She just cried harder. After confiscating her frosting-eating spoon, Gemma left with Anchovy, leaving Zara alone with her dad. He looked about as thrilled with that as she was.

Pacing the length of her couch and then back again, he kept his hands gripped behind his back. Every few steps, he’d look over at her and give her what he probably meant as an encouraging smile that actually came across as more of a nervous baring of teeth.

“Dad, it’s okay,” she said, sinking farther down into the couch, wishing it could swallow her up. “You don’t have to pretend.”

He stopped mid-step and pivoted to look straight at her. “Pretend what?”

She didn’t want to say, but the words burned in her throat. It was time to let them out—past time, really.

“That you want to be here,” she said. “When I was growing up, you were always off making plans or helping other people in the neighborhood. If I’m not used to it by now, I never will be.”

All of the color drained out of Jasper’s face. “What are you talking about, Button?”

She tried to answer, but the words just wouldn’t come. All she could do was stare at him and feel all the same hurt she had when she was poring over the bills while he was buying rounds to cheer up the neighborhood after the community center burned down. She’d never doubted his sincerity to help people; she’d just always known that her place in the rankings for people who needed some of Jasper Ambrose’s kindness was near the bottom.