expected to happen?
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. I slid it out and read the message.
Kylie: Hey J, you wanna come over tonight? My parents will be out.
That was code for: Let’s have sex.
I texted her back then tossed my phone on the bedside table and ignored the incoming messages. None of those girls meant anything to me and I’d made that clear right from the start. I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. I would never be their boyfriend. When Ashleigh realized that I would never be in love with her, she’d moved on and I’d breathed a sigh of relief when she started dating some college guy.
Kylie wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. She just liked sex, so that made everything easier and far less complicated.
I read Lila’s letter three more times and looked through all the photos again, reading her little notes underneath them until I knew every word by heart.
Never yours, she’d signed it.
That was where she was wrong. She had always been mine and for a while I had been hers. She’d just been too blind to see what was right in front of her eyes. She’d thrown my love back in my face just like that football jersey, and she’d walked away. I had done everything in my power to be there for her but what had I gotten for my efforts? A kick in the balls. Because that was how it felt.
This went deeper than wounding my pride. She trampled all over my heart.
Goddamn you, Rebel.
A knock on my bedroom door had me stashing the book under my mattress. The door opened and my dad appeared in the doorway looking none too happy. He advanced into the room and I could tell that my words at the dinner table had not gone down too well.
Oh shit, here we go. No good deed goes unpunished.
“What’s up?” I grabbed the tennis ball on my bedside table and tossed it against the opposite wall. It hit the wall and bounced back. I caught it mid-air and tossed it again. Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch.
“What was all that about at the dinner table?” he asked, his gaze settled on the sports trophies and medals my mom had put on the shelves to create a display. I kept moving them out of my room and hiding them in the attic but they kept reappearing as if by magic.
“Just trying to defend my brother.” I kept slamming the wall with the tennis ball and catching it in one hand.
“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” With a sigh, I caught the ball in my hand and swung my legs over the bed then stood up to face him. With the two of us in this room, it felt too crowded, like there wasn’t enough space or enough air for both of us to breathe comfortably. “You need to be a role model for your brothers. I expect better from you, Jude. And undermining me at the dinner table is unacceptable.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest, no doubt waiting for an apology. I mimicked his stance and stared at him. I wasn’t sorry and had no intention of saying it.
“Your brothers look up to you. If you say it’s okay, Gideon believes it.”
That was actually laughable. Gideon had never been my biggest fan and I highly doubted that he believed everything I said nor did he have any interest in following my example. Which was the whole point. He shouldn’t be expected to follow in my footsteps. Gideon and I were night and day and while we’d never been close, he was still my brother so I’d always defend him.
“He’s going to play football and you’re going to work with him on his game,” my father stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.
An incredulous laugh burst out of me. I shook my head. “I don’t get it. Why is it so important to you that he plays football?”
“Because he’s good. He has a natural ability just like you do.”
It was pointless to tell my father that Gideon hated playing football which meant he’d half-ass it out on the field if he was forced to play. My dad would talk to Coach and get Gideon on the team and that would be the end of it. Gideon would be a Maverick, he’d wear the blue and gold jersey on Friday nights, and he’d end up riding the bench. He’d take out his anger on me because