Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Savannah
Savannah Banana
I’ve only been to the new football house three times, including this morning, when I came to drop off what should have been enough pastries for a week, but didn’t even last until the guys left for training.
There’s a rookie at the door with a list, which I’m pretty sure is an excuse to only admit people who are either hot or invited, because the girls before and after me didn’t have to say anything, but I’m not let in until he finds me under Savannah Banana.
Which could be so no one connects me to my brother, but is more likely so Parker can continue to tease me with my childhood nickname.
The living room has a couple of guys I recognize from the team, but mostly strangers, some of whom look like they’re trying to place me.
I was at the old football house all the time, but rarely during parties, or at least not mingling, so they’d have to have gone to the games, or had sleepovers to recognize me.
“Banana!” Parker exclaims as soon as he sees me trying to disappear into the corner of the room.
He’s a few shots into the customary twenty-one as he lifts me up in his arms so my feet no longer touch the ground and rocks me from side to side.
“I’m so happy you made it. Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever. Other than this morning.”
If I was afraid of people pretending to like me to get to my brother, I have just ensured that a host of women are now jealous of me because Parker doesn’t show girls at school any interest, yet here he is acting like I’m his.
Or so their stares imply, but Parker just smiles and waves.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he whispers loudly before bringing me to the kitchen, where the island is covered with bottles of liquor, in addition to the beer and wine coolers that replace groceries in their fridge.
He reaches into the back to grab a watermelon cooler and holds it up to me with a knowing smile.
“You remembered.” I beam at him and he winks, pouring the cooler into a cup with ice and club soda before handing it to me.
“Now you fit in perfectly.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I feel safe and comfortable, touched he remembered how awkward I feel when I’m the only one without a drink at parties, but my nerves are back with a vengeance when we get to the living room and it feels like all eyes are on me.
When this happened in the past, someone would just remind me I’m not the center of the universe and most people are too busy paying attention to themselves, but tonight I’m on the arm of the birthday boy and I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining it. Best intentions, terrible execution.
Two rookies I don’t know come in carrying a pyramid of cupcakes with candles, singing Happy Birthday while the rest of the room drunkenly sings along.
One girl is doing her best Marilyn Monroe interpretation while her friend tries to stop her, but she looks – and keeps singing – like she couldn’t care less, and I admire that.
“I’ll go get plates,” I offer, but Parker takes my hand to pull me back to him as another rookie appears with plates, napkins, and cutlery.
“You’re so domestic,” I point out.
“Not everyone has a you,” he explains. “And honestly, a lot of these guys clearly didn’t grow up with your mom, because I am cooking a lot more than I intended to. Chubbs over there? Tried to make KD without draining the water. What the hell, you know?”
“You’re teaching your rookies to cook?” I verify, finding it absolutely adorable.
“I make sure my team doesn’t pass out from starvation,” he argues. “If they learn a few things along the way, so be it.”
“I’ll bring you a casserole next time I go home.”
“I want to say you don’t have to, but it is my birthday and food you make tastes so much better than what I make.”
“Guess you have to come to a Sunday dinner once in a while.”
“Fuck, I miss those. I’m gonna guilt one of your brothers into having us over next time they’re in town,” he says, nudging my shoulder like he expects me to talk him out of it.
“Mom will love that. Everyone will,” I assure him. “I’m still there most Sundays if you want to join.”
“Might take you up on that,” he says, and I really hope he does. For his sake, because my mom’s food is amazing, but I also didn’t realize how much I missed my bonus brother. He isn’t far away, but he’s right, I have not seen him nearly as much as I should.
Parker does a great job of thanking everyone who comes wish him happy birthday, then politely sending them on their way, but more people are arriving, and I’m monopolizing the birthday boy.
“I’ll just go—”
“Twenty-two minutes left, boo,” he whispers after checking his watch, and I laugh, because Dallas obviously told him about my limit.
I consider leaving anyway, because I doubt Dallas would go so far as to track my phone…at least not to make sure I stayed at the party, but Parker adds, “Darts are in the next room with Manning and Jacques.”
They’re two of the guys who lived with my brother in the old football house. And not that I’m dying to see them, but once I got over all the staring, this party hasn’t been as terrible as I thought. This could be a not-so-fun challenge. To hold myself to that hour.
“I’m here if you need me,” Parker assures me. “But it’s also cool if you need to bounce early. I totally get that – tonight exceptionally – I may be cramping your style.”
“Never,” I lie. “But I’ll check out the darts.”
His smile is just as bad as my brother’s, so I roll my eyes, but he’s completely unfazed as he pulls me close and kisses the top of my head.
“Collins and Bennet are cool too, if you’re looking,” he tells me in a hushed voice, then adds, “Collins is a freshman if you want younger, and Bennet’s a senior who just transferred, so he doesn’t know anything other than you’re my sister and he better not hurt you, or let anyone else.
I can vouch for both, and talk your brothers into accepting them if you click. ”
I’m not sure how I feel about him trying to set me up, but claiming me as his sister like it’s a fact makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.
“Happy birthday Parker. You’re really the best.” I hug him before going to the darts.
Maybe it would be easier to date a football player, now my brother’s no longer on the team.
One who hopefully wouldn’t make a big deal of it, because Parker is a way easier in for Dallas.
But they all still worship my brother, and might not want to risk upsetting him, either by dating me in the first place, or dumping me when the initial glimmer wears off.
I like the idea of someone liking me for me, no ulterior motives.
And I’m sort of falling for Noah, even if I’d rather not admit it.
Manning and Jacques are like Parker, extensions of my brother, so I have fun playing darts with them and getting all the gossip, until the first girl I don’t recognize stumbles in and leaves the door open.
She calls the winner, eying Jacques seductively, so I throw the game, getting a reproachful look from Manning, who was rooting for me, but more partygoers find us, so he quickly gets distracted.
Every time someone comes in, I turn and look, hoping to see Noah.
I’m disappointed when it isn’t, even though he had a game today, and the last thing I want is for my two worlds to mix when I have worked very hard to not have Noah be another person calling me Baby James.
Though it could be funny to watch all Dallas’ old teammates grill Noah for a few seconds before I die of embarrassment.
“Do you think Dallas James will make an appearance? They’re best friends, right?”
I tense when a girl to my right mentions my brother.
“I heard they grew up together,” her friend agrees, craning her neck to see out into the living room.
“I doubt it,” a guy behind me says, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders.
I hear Dallas’ voice, and a mix of fear and excitement overcomes me before I notice his phone is showing a live from one of Dallas’ NFL teammates.
“They stayed in Vegas after the game last night to watch the fight tonight.”
The fight was actually a last-minute add-on to their equipment manager’s bachelor party, the real reason they stayed in Vegas, but instead of correcting him, I take a step back, closer to the wall he just vacated.
“Are you friends, or…”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’re brothers, but I’d know if he was coming to town,” he assures them, and I roll my eyes.
It could be true, but I feel like anyone Dallas is friends with wouldn’t need to name drop him to impress a girl.
Wouldn’t want to. But I’ve already proven I’m na?ve when it comes to that stuff.
Natasha, the girl who cornered me in the football stands for Dallas’ number, walks in, so I slip out to avoid another confrontation, with a quick wave to the guys. Manning waves back, but Jacques has a girl in his lap, so I smile at how some things stay the same.
I have less than five minutes left, which I’m pretty sure counts as an hour, but I want to say goodbye to Parker.
Who is nowhere to be found. I wander around rooms, making sure to actively search for him, as opposed to how I used to go from room to room at parties I didn’t feel comfortable at, pretending I had a purpose rather than just being awkward with no one to talk to.
A heaviness settles in my chest, because I really don’t like being that girl.
The one who doesn’t belong. Clay says everyone feels that way sometimes, but I feel it most of the time.
It might be why I wrote so much in high school.
A kid sitting alone is sad, but a kid writing furiously might have turned down offers to play so they could catch up on homework.
Or, in my case, it didn’t matter that I was alone, because the characters in my story were surrounded by people who loved them and thought they were amazing.