Nets and Lies(3)

He shook his head. “Oh no, I don’t think so. It’s one thing to let you carry your own bags, but pay for dinner? Nope, not happening.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

“That’s probably the only thing my dad ever lectured me on that I actually agreed with.”

I laughed. “Words of wisdom by Coach T?”

Will snorted. “Unfortunately yes.”

He held the door open for me, and then we got in line. After we’d ordered dinner for a little over ten dollars, we headed to a table.

I’d barely opened my nuggets by the time Will had scarfed down his quarter pounder. “Um, hungry much?”

“I’m always starved after a game,” he mumbled through a mouthful of fries.

“Want some of my nuggets?”

“If you’re sure you don’t want them...”

I slid the container over to him. “I just wish I could eat like you and never gain weight.”

“Aw, baby, you always look good to me,” he drawled.

“Yeah, yeah. My only saving grace is your dad runs my ass off at practice.”

“Seriously, sometimes I don’t know how you guys stand playing for him.” Will shuddered dramatically. “What an egomaniac!”

I twirled the straw in my chocolate milkshake. I was used to these comments from Will about Coach T. As an only child, Will was supposed to have the best grades, the best after-school activities, and be an all-star athlete.

“He’s really not that bad,” I protested.

Will smiled. “You’re just saying that because you’re his little star!”

“I am not.”

“Oh yes, you are. ‘Melanie has the best hook shot’, and ‘Melanie plays defense like there’s no tomorrow’,” he said, mimicking Coach T.

“Whatever,” I said, shaking my head.

“You’re his shining star, babe, whether or not you like to admit it.” Will waggled his eyebrows. “Sometimes I think he’s got a serious jonsing for you.”

“Ew!” I cried, throwing my wadded up napkin at him. “That’s not funny.”

Will winked at me. “What you don’t think he’s crushing on you?”

A chill went over me, and I shivered. “No, I don’t. He doesn’t think of me that way at all! I’m his team captain. And most importantly, I’m his son’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one getting on the praise while I have to hear what a worthless tool I am half of the time,” he grumbled.

I reached over and took his hand in mine. “I’m sorry.”

His hardened face quickly turned into a smile. “Hey, don’t be sorry.”

“Okay,” I said, with a yawn.

Will raised his eyebrows. “Man, am I that boring?”

I ducked my head. “No, I’m just tired, that’s all.”

He squeezed my hand. “I was just teasing you, Mel.” When I glanced up, I met his amused gaze. “Come on, let’s go.”

“But I’m not ready to go home.”

“Oh really?”

“No, I wanna stay with you.”

His eyes crinkled with pleasure at my response. “I guess we could go back to your house and watch some movies.”

“Something romantic?” I asked, giving him my best pleading look.

Will sighed and then raised his gaze to the ceiling. “Lord, please deliver me from the sappiness I’m about to see.”

I smacked his arm playfully. “You know you secretly like them.”

He snorted as he started gathering up our trash. “I swear, watching them has turned me into a total pansy.”

“Oh, please, you’re anything but a pansy,” I said, as I reached over and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Hmm, and you certainly don’t make me feel like a pansy!”

“Whatever,” I replied with a smile.

***

We breezed in the back door of my house to find my parents sitting at the kitchen table. A rainbow- colored array of papers and forms were scattered around them. “Oh jeez, looks like someone’s getting an early jump on tax time,” Will said.

“Every year, Dad swears they’re going to do their own taxes, and then every year Mom just takes everything to the accountant,” I said under my breath.

Will suppressed a laugh by coughing into his hand.

“Hey guys,” I called.

Dad took off his glasses. “Hey there. Boy, were those some nail biters tonight,” he commented.

“Thanks.”

“Want something to drink?” I asked Will.

“Sure. Got any popcorn?”

I laughed. “Let me fix us some.”

“I’ll get it,” Mom offered, heading into the pantry. I grabbed a few sodas out of the refrigerator while she put the popcorn in. As I watched the bag rise and expand in the microwave, Will and my dad ran through the games like ESPN announcers.

The moment the microwave dinged, I cleared my throat. “Okay, okay, enough with the play by play. Will and I are going to watch a movie.”

My dad chuckled. “Oh dear, poor Will. The glory of victory…and the agony of defeat!”

Will snorted. “You got that right, Mr. Reeves.”