Shut Out(66)

“I’m scared that if he gets too far away, we’ll lose him,” I whispered. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“Don’t look at it as losing him,” Dad said. “Look at it as adding to the family. We have Jenna now, too. Someone to help you keep him safe—because you know she’ll boss him around just as much as you do.”

He was trying to make me laugh, but it didn’t work.

I put down the napkin, now folded into a compact little cube, and picked up my sandwich. “Why her?” I asked. “Of all people, why her?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to predict who will make a person happy. But in the end, that’s what matters. Remember what I told you when you and Randy broke up? I told you that I’d accept any boy you brought home, no matter who he was, as long as he made you happy. Honey, we owe Logan the same.”

“I know.”

“You can’t control everything,” Dad said. “Sometimes you just need to relax and have faith that things will work out. Let go a little and let life happen. You don’t want to miss out on the best parts of life just because you were afraid of getting hurt. Or, in this case, of Logan getting hurt.”

But it wasn’t just about Logan.

Dad didn’t know it, obviously, but he was also talking about Cash.

I’d been pushing him away, keeping him at a distance, running every time he got too close, because I was afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of how I felt about him. But in reality, I should have just talked to him. Like Ellen now wanted me to do. I could have solved all of this if I’d just asked him why. But instead, I tried to control everything about our relationship, tried to keep myself safe. And that hadn’t worked at all.

But it wasn’t too late.

“I have to go,” I said, standing up, my sandwich only half-eaten.

Dad looked startled. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, honey. I just—”

“You didn’t,” I told him. “You’re right. I can’t control everything. Sometimes I need to let go and… not be afraid.” I took a breath. “I’ll work on it.”

Dad nodded. “Okay. Good. I know it won’t be easy for you, but I think you’ll be happier in the long run.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Now, um… Can I use the car? There’s someone I need to go see.”





chapter thirty-one


There was a soccer game going on down at the high school that afternoon. I showed up just in time to watch the last twenty minutes. The bleachers were pretty empty, probably because so many people had left for their fall break mini-vacations, but there were still several loyal fans sitting around cheering. I could see Ellen on the second bleacher, cheering for Adam with all her heart.

The way I used to cheer for Randy.

I sat down in an empty row, pulling my feet up onto the narrow bench and resting my chin on my knees while I watched. It was the first time I’d ever really watched a soccer game. Usually, I’d just pass the field and catch glimpses of the action during practice or on my way to the football field. Sometimes, due to horrible scheduling, the games would happen at the same time.

My family didn’t watch soccer and I didn’t know any of the rules, but I spotted Cash running in the middle of the field, mostly along the edges. I remembered him telling me at the summer party that he was a midfielder or something like that. I wasn’t sure what it meant, and I hadn’t really followed his explanation then. Now, though, I wanted to know. I wanted to know what his job was on the team. What they trusted him with, relied on him to do.

One thing I knew for certain—I’d never seen anyone as graceful as Cash on the field. He moved swiftly, smoothly, past his opponents. He made it look like more than a game—like it was an art. I could suddenly see why he loved it. Why anyone might love sports. To me, it had always been just a game, but to people like Cash—like my dad and Randy, even—it was a life, an art, a passion.

The buzzer sounded just as Adam kicked the ball past the other team’s goalie. Hamilton won, and everyone clapped and cheered. Slowly, the audience began to disperse, leaving the stands in packs, chattering and comparing their favorite moments of the game. Everyone seemed to be gushing about Adam or Kyle, the goalie. But I’d barely noticed either. Cash was the only one I saw on the field. The only one who mattered.

I stayed in the bleachers, nervously rapping my knuckles against the aluminum bench while the rest of the fans headed back to the parking lot and the teams shook hands on the field. Then the Hamilton players gathered at the bench, high-fiving and discussing the game with Coach Lukavics. When they’d finished, the boys all headed back toward the changing rooms.

All but one.

Cash’s eyes met mine and, after a long pause, he started walking up the bleachers toward me. My heart pounded as he got closer. He looked amazing in his uniform—more amazing than usual, I mean—but I tried not to think about that.

“Nice game,” I said.

“Thanks,” he replied as he reached my place in the middle of the stands. He sat down, leaving a few feet of space between us. “I never expected to see you here.”

“Yeah,” I said, my knuckles tapping faster. “Can we talk?”

“Sure—but, um, would you rather I go shower and change first?”