The Deal(34)

Logan and Birdie flank me, crowing about our win, but the latter stops in his tracks when he spots my dad. “You gonna say hello?” he murmurs.

I don’t miss the eager note in his voice. My teammates can’t understand why I don’t shout to the whole f*cking world that my father is the Phil Graham. They think he’s a god, which I guess makes me a demi-god for having the good fortune to be sired by him. When I first came to Briar, they used to harass me for his autograph, but I fed them some line about how my father is wicked private, and fortunately they’ve quit badgering me to introduce them.

“Nope.” I keep walking toward the bus, turning my head just as I pass the old man.

Our eyes lock for a moment, and he nods at me.

One little nod, and then he turns away and lumbers toward his shiny silver SUV.

It’s the same old routine. If we win, I get a nod. If we lose, I get nothing.

When I was younger, he would at least put on a fatherly show of support after a loss, a bullshit smile of encouragement or a consolatory pat on the back if anyone happened to be looking at us. But the moment we were alone, the proverbial gloves would come off.

I climb onto the bus with my teammates and breathe a sigh of relief when the driver pulls out of the lot, leaving my father in our rearview mirror.

I suddenly realize that depending on how the Ethics exam goes, I might not even be playing next weekend. The old man definitely won’t be happy about that.

Good thing I don’t give a shit what he thinks.





10




Hannah


My mom calls on Sunday morning for our weekly phone chat, which I’ve been looking forward to for days. We rarely have time to talk during the week because I’m in class all day, rehearsing in the evenings, and fast asleep by the time Mom finishes her night shift at the grocery store.

The worst thing about living in Massachusetts is not being able to see my parents. I miss them so frickin’ much, but at the same time, I needed to get far, far away from Ransom, Indiana. I’ve only been back once since my high school graduation, and after that visit, we all agreed it would be better if I didn’t come home anymore. My aunt and uncle live in Philadelphia, so my parents and I fly there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. The rest of the time, I speak to them on the phone, or if I’m lucky, they’re able to scrape together enough money to come see me.

It’s not the most ideal arrangement, but they understand why I can’t come home, and I not only understand why they can’t leave, I know I’m to blame for it. I also know I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to them.

“Hey, sweetie.” My mother’s voice slides into my ear like a warm embrace.

“Hey, Mom.” I’m still in bed, snuggled up in a blanket cocoon and staring up at the ceiling.

“How did you do on the Ethics midterm?”

“I got an A.”

“That’s wonderful! See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

“Trust me, there was. Half the class failed.” I roll onto my side and rest the phone on my shoulder. “How’s Dad?”

“He’s good.” She pauses. “He picked up extra shifts at the mill, but…”

My body tenses. “But what?”

“But it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to get to Aunt Nicole’s for Thanksgiving, sweetie.”

The pain and regret in her voice cuts me like a knife. Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away.

“You know we just had to fix the leak in the roof, and our savings took a hit from that,” Mom says. “We don’t have money for airfare.”

“Why don’t you drive?” I ask weakly. “It’s not that long…” Uh-huh, just a fifteen-hour drive. Not long at all.

“If we do that, your father will need to book more time off, and he can’t afford to give up the hours.”

I bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. “Maybe I can…” I quickly calculate how much savings I’ve got. Definitely not enough for three plane tickets to Philly.

But it is enough for one ticket to Ransom.

“I can fly home,” I whisper.

“No.” Her response is swift and unequivocal. “You don’t have to do that, Hannah.”

“It’s just for one weekend.” I’m trying to convince myself, not her. Trying to ignore the panic that claws its way up my throat at the thought of going back there. “We don’t have to drive into town or see anyone. I can just hang out at the house with you and Dad.”