I’m in the basement, watching a college football game on the big screen with my dad.
At halftime, I run upstairs to make a quick smoothie—mixing protein powder with almond butter, cocoa, bananas, and cashew milk. But instead of putting in the normal amount of milk, I add just a little to keep the texture thick. This is one of my favorite combinations, so rich and decadent that I can eat it with a spoon, like ice cream. I take a few cold bites and decide to run up and grab a sweatshirt.
When I walk past Haley’s room, I find her and Damon with their heads together. Their voices are hushed, but they seem to be discussing something very passionately.
So much so that they don’t even notice me when I walk into the room.
I tap my sister on the shoulder.
She screams and jumps up.
Even Damon sucks in his breath. “Dude, you can’t sneak up on us like that,” he says, his hand to his chest.
“What are you two conspiring about?” I ask them.
“Uh, nothing,” my sister says unconvincingly. “Just talking about school.”
“Okay, what about me at school then? I heard you say my name.”
They share a glance, and Damon tilts his head back and forth like he’s weighing options in his head. He ends up giving her a slight head nod.
Haley takes a deep breath. “We were actually discussing whether or not we should tell you about something that we believe you will find upsetting now before it happens or if we should just let you find out, uh—”
“Organically,” Damon says.
“Organically?” I ask.
“Yes, like, on your own,” Haley repeats.
“And it’s something that will upset me?”
“Yes, but this, um, event isn’t going to happen until next week. And we were arguing about what to do. Basically,” Haley explains.
“So, do you want to know?” Damon asks, cutting to the chase.
“Are we talking upset me, like Winger is sick? Or Grandpa has cancer kind of thing?”
“Oh no!” Haley says. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Damon says. “You’re freaking him out worse than just telling him. So, the deal is that my sister is bringing a friend home for Thanksgiving.”
“Oh,” I say. “Like, one of her sorority sisters? That’s cool. Why would you think that would upset me?”
“Because this is a guy friend,” Haley clarifies.
I study their faces. Haley is giving me the kind of smile reserved for when she feels bad for someone. Damon is looking at me like he’s worried I might punch him in the face.
“Wait. Like a guy friend. Or a boyfriend?” I ask.
“More like a boyfriend.” Haley replies.
“And?!”
Before, they were all talk-talk, and now that I actually want to know more details, they’ve suddenly gone mute.
“And that’s it,” Haley says. “We just thought you should know.”
“How did you find out about it?” I ask them.
“I overheard Mom and Jennifer talking about it.”
“I see,” I say softly even though I’m practically seeing red. “Well, thanks for the update.”
I storm out of the room, grab my stupid sweatshirt, and stomp down the stairs, looking for my mom. I know she already put Emersyn to bed, and I should be quiet, but I can’t help it. I’m pissed.
I find her downstairs on the couch with Dad.
I march in front of the television, towering over both of them.
“I understand you’ll be setting an extra place for Thanksgiving dinner,” I bellow.
Mom licks her lip and then bites it, like she’s trying to think of what to say. She knows she’s busted.
How could she do this to me?
“Haley overheard you talking to Jennifer. Were you not going to tell me?!” I say, my voice rising more.
“Tell him what?” my dad asks her.
It’s pretty obvious that I’m upset.
“Dani is bringing a friend home with her,” my mom replies.
“Oh, well, what’s wrong with that? We always welcome—”
“This isn’t just a friend, Dad. It’s not her roommate. She’s bringing home her new boyfriend, and Mom didn’t tell me.”
“Oh,” my dad says, his forehead creasing.
“So, Mom, what do you have to say for yourself?” I sass.
She makes a little hmmph sound and gives me a closed-lip smile, like she’s trying to hold her temper. “It just so happens, Chase, that this is my house, and I can invite anyone for dinner that I want without asking for your opinion or approval.”
“I don’t care. It’s my house, too, and I don’t want her here. Dis-invite her.”
“Chase, don’t be ridiculous,” Mom says. “She’s your friend. She’s my goddaughter.”
“Fine then, she can come. Her boyfriend can’t.”
“Chase, look, I was going to tell you. I actually came down here to talk to your father about how we should handle this delicate situation. It’s usually a pretty big deal to bring a guy home to the family. It tends to indicate a, um, certain level of seriousness—”
And that’s when I lose it. “He’s not coming to our house. If he does, I’ll leave. You can spend Thanksgiving without me. Sorry, Mom, but you’re going to have to choose.”
“Chase,” my dad says.
“No, Dad,” I yell. “There’s nothing to say because we already know how it’s going to go. He’ll ruin Thanksgiving for all of us because he’s a dick, and we’ll have to deal with it.”
“So, you’ve met him?” Mom asks, looking confused.
I throw my hands up in the air because I don’t understand why they are being so freaking dense about this. “I don’t have to meet him to know that. That’s the only kind of guy she dates.”
“She dated you,” Mom fires back.
“No, Mom. Actually, she never has.”
“Well, regardless, Chase, they’re coming.”
“All right then. Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“About what?” she asks.
“Oh, I don’t know, Mom. Like, if I end up punching him in the face. That kind of thing.”
I hear my little sister start crying.
“Dammit,” Mom says, storming off.
My dad gets up off the couch in a flash.
I figure I’m in trouble for yelling at my mom, but I need her to understand. I need my dad to understand.
He goes to the fridge, grabs two beers, pops off the caps with an opener, and then hands one to me.
Which means he’s not going to ground me.
I take the beer, let out a massive sigh, and plop down onto the sectional couch, exhausted. I set the bottle on the table, and then I close my eyes, cover my face with my hands, and rub across my forehead.
I need to calm down. My blood pressure feels like it’s through the roof. I might have a fever. And my heart feels like it is about to beat out of my chest. Maybe I’m coming down with something—like a heart attack.
Actually though, maybe I could come down with something. Like the chicken pox Lacey had during Homecoming. We’d have to, like, quarantine the house. We couldn’t have anyone over.
“Have you ever wanted to just punch a guy in the face because—” I start to say.
“He’s dating your girl?” my dad asks in response, taking a seat next to me.
“Sort of. Except she’s not your girl.”
“But you want her to be?”
“Maybe I used to want that. I don’t even know anymore.”
“The move from best friends to a couple is tricky, Chase. And to answer your question, I wanted to punch every single guy your mother ever dated in the face.”
“You did?” Maybe I’m not going crazy.
“Yeah. She was my best friend. And with that came some, uh, territorial feelings. And the shit of it is, when they dumped her, guess whose shoulder she always came to cry on?”
“Yours,” I say with a nod, totally understanding.
“Yep. And I would always tell her that if she’d date the right guy—hint, that guy was me—this wouldn’t happen. But she never got the hint. And if she couldn’t see it, I didn’t think I could risk it. Is that how you feel about Dani?”
“She doesn’t complain to me about them anymore at least.”
“Chase, I know you think because I’m old that I won’t understand, but I do. If I had to take a wild guess, I’d say you slept together in the Ozarks. That you thought you’d be together forever, and when you got back, she got asked to Homecoming by Hunter. And it devastated you.”
I swallow hard, close my eyes at the flash of pain I feel, and nod my head. “We actually got, um, close again when she was back for my birthday and possibly on homecoming weekend, too. And I just assumed when she came home for Thanksgiving that—”
“You’d be close again?”
I nod. Grab the beer and take a sip. “Instead, she’s bringing a guy. To my house. For dinner. And I don’t think I can handle it.” I wave my hand in the air. “Just forget it. Really. I’ll deal with it. I’ll apologize to Mom for my outburst. And I’ll be nice to him. Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?” Dad asks.
“I’m not going to Nebraska.”
“But you and Damon just finished your visits. I thought you’d made a decision.”
“Please don’t tell anyone. But I can’t do it. Not anymore. It was just some stupid promise.”
My dad’s eyes go wide with surprise. “You’ve wanted to play there since you were a kid. You and Damon both have.”
“I know, but honestly, we have a ton of better options.”
“Isn’t it a little rash to change your mind because Dani is bringing a guy home for Thanksgiving?”
“It’s not rash actually. More like it’s been a long time coming. That first summer in the Ozarks, we decided that we’d all go to college together—not just me and Dani, but Damon and Haley, too. That we’d run our business together from there. It’s not just the guy. It’s everything. Dani hasn’t done a single thing that she promised. And I’m not convinced that she ever will.”
My dad takes a sip of beer and leans back in his chair, like he has nothing to say. But I know he thinks before he speaks. And that when he finally says something, it’s well thought out.
So, I sit here silently. I know I sort of just dropped a bomb on him, and he probably needs to process.
“Chase, you know that your mother and I will fully support whatever your decision is regarding your college choice. But I would caution you not to give up your dream because of a girl.”
“What do you mean? Don’t choose not to go to Nebraska just because she’s there? They want me up there in January, Dad, so I can play spring ball. If I do that, I know I’ll win the starting job. Which means I’ll be up there for a full semester of just me and her. Damon doesn’t have enough credits to graduate midterm.”
“Like I said, it’s your dream. And you need to remember that.”
“Actually,” I say pathetically, “it was our dream.”
“Chase, yes, your mother and I—”
“No, Dad, I don’t mean you and Mom. I mean, it was our dream. Me and Dani’s.”
“Oh.”
“She even put it on that stupid cupcake.” I take out my phone and show him a picture of the cupcake she made me in the Ozarks and explain what each decoration meant. Although I don’t tell him that an actual photo of it has been hanging in my locker all season, driving me through until I could get to college and be with her all the time.
“Do you want my advice, son?” Dad asks, a conspiratorial grin on his face.
“Desperately.”
“This weekend, I want you to be her friend. Her very best friend. Like you used to be. When the guy comes, be nice to him. Be especially nice to him. Act like it doesn’t bother you, no matter how much it does.”
“I don’t know if I can do that. And why would I want to?”
“If you have to ask that question, Chase, then it really isn’t your dream,” Dad says harshly.
I sit quietly and contemplate that. Dad doesn’t say anything further. He just gets up and goes upstairs.
And I don’t know if what he said helped or just confused me more.
Because I don’t think I can be just her friend when I want to be her forever.
