she argued, focusing on him. “You expressed reservations from the beginning, particularly with the boys fighting so much.”
Yeah. The fight with Jake. The fight at the party. The fact Jake slugged the asshole who ‘slut-sneezed.’ Hell, Mitch’s family had actually tried to sue us. It had gone absolutely nowhere, and I’d kept that part to myself. The pending criminal charges helped.
I’d break more bones in him if he ever came anywhere near her again.
“I do agree with you, but I also know the harder we push, the harder that he’ll push back,” Dad said with a nod toward me, and I almost snorted. “He’s your son, Sara. He got all of your stubbornness.”
“Ugh,” she scoffed and then shook her head. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I promised her. “I’m right where I want to be. I made mistakes, Mom. I made mistakes, and I almost lost her. I’m not risking that again.”
“But one person cannot be responsible for the happiness of another,” she stressed.
“I get that. It’s why we’re all working together. We talk, we communicate, we coordinate. The guys are my best friends, I trust them with her and they trust me. She trusts us all. I know it’s not conventional.”
“Well, it’s less about conventions than the fact that age and circumstances can often dictate relationships as much as anything at your age,” Dad told me.
“We know. It’s why we are even more firmly committed to no long-distance relationships. Jake did the math.” I didn’t quite smile when I said that, but Mom had to smother one, even as her eyes danced. “Like I said, we wanted that, even before we were dating.”
“Fair,” Dad conceded, but he pinned me with a look. “Now tell me it wasn’t because all of you were still hoping for a chance with her.”
“I won’t lie,” I told him as I straightened in my seat. “But Frankie is more than just some girl to date. She’s always been more than that. She’s our friend, I’d count her as one of my best friends. I’m lucky, I got four of them. But she’s also the girl we love. And yes, Dad, I said we, because I’m not the only one in love with her. Truth is, we all have been for years.”
I’d finished enough of my food that I set my fork down and focused on them.
“Look, you’re worried I’m going to make a decision I regret someday. Right now, the only decision I’d regret is if I didn’t choose to be in this relationship. I’m not fooling myself. I know she is in a relationship with the other guys. We’re all very up front about it, and when we went to Colorado for Christmas, I got a firsthand taste of what it would be like with just the five of us without the stress and the trauma of the last few months.”
I held both of their attention now.
“I loved it. I loved having my best friends right there. I loved spending time with her. I loved that Frankie relaxed and we talked. I know you think we’re all too young. But we’re not getting married…”
“How would that even work?” But even as Mom asked, Dad caught her hand and shook his head. She sighed. “Sorry, sweetheart. I worry.”
“I think that’s in your contract.” Moms were supposed to worry about us. I just wished Frankie’s mom hadn’t defaulted on hers. At her quick smile, I nodded. “Like I said, we’re not getting married. We’re not taking anything for granted or lightly. We’ve had a lot of discussions. School is important. We all have goals, we’re all keeping those in mind. But it’s more important to us that we stay together. If that means we don’t go to a first pick school, because our second or third pick has not only the classes we need but the added benefit of all of us attending? Then that’s where we go.”
“All right, so no football.” Mom gave me an expectant look, and I nodded. “You’re going to pursue your music more vigorously.”
I nodded again. “That’s the plan. Depending on how things work out, I thought I might minor in business or accounting. Something I can use to pay the bills while I work on my music.”
“And in a few years, you graduate. Then what?”
“Then we do what other graduates do—we work on getting jobs and into our careers.”
“What if—”
“Mom?” I reached across the table and put my hand over hers. “I get it. You’re