Second Chance Boyfriend

paper to hide the words from her seeking eyes, I study her face, willing her to look more like Fable. But it doesn’t happen. This girl is nothing like her. And I hate her for it. “I’m taking notes.”
    She smiles. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell if you’re not.”
    “But I am,” I insist defensively because these words are for no one else. They’re for me and a girl who will never see them.
    “No need to freak out,” she whispers. Her gaze narrows, as if she can see in me, through me, and I’m tempted to run. “Or get so defensive.”
    I say nothing. How can I defend myself against that when she speaks the truth?
    “Hey, aren’t you Drew Callahan?” She cocks her head, her expression full of sudden interest. “Mister Big Shot Quarterback?”
    Her voice is full of sarcasm. I let down the entire school at the end of the season in one spectacular fail after another. I fell apart and everyone knows it. I can see the contempt in her gaze, feel it radiating from her body, and I know she thinks I’m a joke.
    Grabbing my backpack at my feet, I shove the piece of paper into it, along with my book. I get out of my chair and haul the strap over my shoulder. “He doesn’t exist anymore,” I mutter to her before I make my escape. Right in the middle of class.
    But I don’t give a shit. I just keep on going. Until I’m outside and breathing in the sharp cold air, the sun shining on me, the people bumping past me as I push through the crowd. I hear someone call my name but I ignore it. All sorts of people seem to know me but I don’t know them.
    That’s my bullshit story, no matter how much I don’t want it to be.
    I feel my phone vibrating in my jeans pocket and I grab it, see that it’s my dad. Normally I’d let it go straight to voice mail but for whatever sadistic reason I’m in the mood to talk to him. So I answer.
    “Drew.” He sounds surprised.
    “What’s up?” My voice is deceptively casual. I should’ve been an actor. I’m so good at faking my life it’s unbelievable.
    “I was hoping I could come and see you.” He clears his throat and it’s like I can feel how uncomfortable he is even through the phone. “There are some…things I need to talk to you about.”
    My gut clenches and I feel like I’m going to throw up. He sounds serious. Scary serious. “Like what?”
    “Well, I’d rather talk about it when I see you but…I may as well tell you now.” He takes a deep breath and so do I. “Adele and I are getting a divorce.”
    I feel like I’ve been smacked upside the head and little birds are tweeting in a circle above me, straight out of a cartoon. Glancing around, I catch sight of a bench and I sit heavily on the edge of it, my backpack knocking against me, making me wince. “What? Why?”
    “I’d rather come there and tell you. Are you free this weekend?”
    “Sure.” I remember Logan’s party. “Well, I have something to do Saturday night, but I can cancel it.”
    “I don’t want to interfere with your plans.” My dad usually doesn’t give a shit about my plans, so his protesting is unnerving. He’s not himself. Is he upset that he’s getting a divorce? Does he view this as a good thing or a bad thing? Of course, I automatically blame Adele for everything.
    “You won’t be interfering, Dad. Trust me. It’s just a stupid party.” Dr. Harris is going to be pissed at me, but I don’t care. I need to be here for my dad. Especially if he’s finally going to really end it with Adele.
    I shouldn’t be happy. I should feel sorry for him. But this is the right move. She’s a sick bitch and I want her poison out of my life. Out of my dad’s life too. Plus—and this is completely selfish on my part—I don’t want our secret revealed.
    I don’t even know if her secret is the truth. And that’s what scares me the most. What’s real, what’s not? I’m not sure anymore.
    “How about I’ll come there Friday, stay the night with you and go home Saturday? That way you can do what you need to do Saturday night,” Dad suggests.
    “You can stay the entire weekend if you want.” I want him to. I miss him. We used to be close. Before I turned fifteen and my stepmom decided I looked far more interesting than my dad ever did.
    You’ve grown up so much, Andrew. You’re so handsome, so big and strong…
    Closing my eyes, I shove her flirtatious voice firmly out of my brain.
    “Let’s play it by ear,” my dad says.
    That’s all I can ask for, so I agree.