Chapter Nine Vaughn
Chapter Nine
Vaughn
My heart races and my body hums with nervous energy I have no outlet for. The game is tied. Brayson is not as good as we are, but they showed up tonight ready to fight.
Dad is keeping his cool, but I can tell he’s worried. I busy myself filling up water bottles. I’m actually grateful for the shit job at the moment because it’s easier to do something than just stand here.
I offer a bottle to Rowan as he comes off the field. He accepts it with a breathless “thanks.”
“Their defense is getting tired,” I tell him. “Keep passing the ball around.”
He squirts a long stream of water into his mouth and then nods. “Thanks, Cap.”
I have never felt less worthy of that title, but something Lacey said to me stuck.
They’re still depending on me even if I’m not on the field.
And for all the ways I’ve failed them by not being out there helping win this game, this feels like the least I can do.
Hand them a water bottle and provide the same feedback I would if I were out there.
Sometimes it’s easier to see what’s working and what’s not when you have a little distance. I still hate every second of not being out there, but I’ll do anything I can to help us win.
Dad glances over as I’m talking with Rowan. He doesn’t say anything, but his disapproval weighs heavily on me. I know I’ve disappointed him. I’m disappointed in myself too.
We get our first break with less than a minute to go in the first half.
Austin steals the ball and sprints toward the goal.
He’s fast, and his footwork has improved greatly in the past few months since he joined the team.
He dribbles between defenders, somehow outrunning them while keeping control of the ball.
He gets a clear shot and takes it, hitting the back of the net and giving us our first lead of the game.
The guys on the sideline jump and cheer. I clench one fist.
“Yes!” I don’t celebrate too loudly, but I feel the momentum shift.
I glance over to the bleachers where our home crowd is on their feet.
I spot Lacey with her hands raised over her head.
She jumps up and down, so happy you’d think she kicked the ball in herself.
I don’t know how she walks around so happy and carefree all the time.
A few weeks ago, I might have thought it was all an act, but after spending more time with her I know it’s just who she is.
She seems to radiate joy. I wonder what that’s like.
After halftime, Brayson falls apart little by little.
They turn the ball over twice in a row, then get a flag on a play.
They’re frustrated and desperate, and that’s exactly where we keep them for the rest of the game.
Meanwhile, our guys are meshing and feeding off one another.
They’re playing well and I’m dying to be out there with them.
When the final buzzer sounds, the field erupts into mayhem. The team is one big mass on the field. Dad and I are the only ones that hang back.
“Congratulations. Looks like you got another shot,” Dad says.
I hear his unspoken words too: Don’t fuck this up again.
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
I’m the last one to leave after the game. The celebration has left trash on the field, and I pick up every last piece before Dad nods his approval. We have a custodial staff that usually does this, but I understand it’s all part of him making sure I feel the full weight of my fuckup.
When everything is done and the lights go out, I make my way toward the school.
The guys were heading to Doyle’s cabin tonight.
Half the school will be there, and usually I’d make an appearance if only to make sure things don’t get too out of hand, but I don’t feel up to it even if I weren’t grounded.
After I make sure the locker room is clean and grab my bag, I finally head out to my SUV.
It’s dark out, the cool October air has a nip to it, and my breath is visible as I walk. I keep my head down and walk quickly. I’m not expecting anyone and only half paying attention, so when Lacey steps out from the side of my Range Rover, I almost yell my surprise.
She startles at my reaction, and I have to dance around so I don’t trample her.
I reach out and place my hands on her forearms.
“Sorry. I thought you’d see me, and then you didn’t, and by the time I realized it, my mouth wouldn’t work to warn you.” She offers a sheepish smile. “Did I take five years off your life?”
“Possibly.” My heart is racing as I take in her red face. She has on a hat and gloves with a Frost Lake cheer sweatshirt, but if she’s been waiting out here since the game ended, she’s gotta be freezing.
“Is everything okay?” I glance up and search for her Bronco, spotting it on the other side of the parking lot. “Something wrong with your car?”
“No. Everything is fine. I just wanted to see if you wanted to study.”
“Tonight?”
“If you have other plans—” she starts.
“No. It’s not that. I’m grounded, so the only place I’m going is home, but it’s Friday night. I figured you were heading to Doyle’s with everyone else.”
“I’m not really feeling it. Plus, I have so much homework due next week on top of practice, two games, and I still need to study for the SAT next month.”
I nod, unsure what to make of her to-do list.
“If tonight doesn’t work, I could do tomorrow too, but it’ll have to be in the morning.”
“Now is fine.” I hadn’t really planned on studying tonight, but it’s probably what I should be doing. No wonder her grades are so good. “Do you want to follow me to my house?”
“Sure,” she chirps happily. She turns to go, then swivels back. “Actually, do you want to grab something to eat first? I’m starving.”
“I’m not really supposed to go anywhere.”
“Right. Of course. I’ll meet you at your house.” She turns to leave again, and for some reason, I feel like a jerk even though I haven’t done anything. Not today, anyway.
“Wait.”
She stops and glances back at me.
“I know a place not far from here.”
Instantly, her smile is back. “Great. I’ll drive. That way if your dad asks, I kidnapped you.”
Lacey’s Bronco smells like her—sweet and floral. I adjust the passenger seat to make room for my long legs as she starts the SUV. Loud rock music blasts from the speakers.
“Sorry.” She fumbles to turn it down.
I lift a brow at her song choice. “I did not picture you as an AC/DC fan.”
“It’s for our new dance routine.”
“Ah.”
She pulls out of the school and then glances over at me. “Don’t talk my ear off or anything.”
A smirk teases my lips. “What would you like me to talk about?”
“I don’t know. Life. Soccer. The weather.”
“My life is soccer, and it’s cold outside.”
“Succinct.” She laughs softly. “Where am I going?”
“Mabel’s Diner. It’s on—”
“I know it.” She shoots me a surprised glance.
“Or there’s a pizza place not far from there.”
“No. Mabel’s is great. I love that place.”
We ride the rest of the way to the diner in silence. It’s one of those old-timey places with a jukebox and servers on roller skates.
“I haven’t been here in forever,” Lacey exclaims, clearly charmed by the whole vibe.
I text my dad to let him know I’m with Lacey to study, and he replies with a thumbs-up. And people wonder where I get my chatty personality from.
“When I was little, my dad brought me here sometimes on the weekend. They used to have the best peach pie.”
“Still do,” I say as one of the servers approaches me.
“Hey, Vaughn.” Lucia grins at me as she comes to a stop at the end of the table.
“Hey. How are you?” I ask the waitress. She’s worked here as long as I’ve been coming.
She pats at her dark hair with the back of her hand. “Good. Same ole. You?”
“Same.”
She lets her gaze move to Lacey. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’ll have lemonade and a chocolate milkshake.”
I make a face without meaning to.
“I’m not going to drink them together,” Lacey says.
Lucia’s brows rise and she chews her gum in an exaggerated fashion. “Two lemonades and two chocolate milkshakes coming up.”
Lacey looks from Lucia’s retreating form to me and back, then her mouth gapes. A laugh trickles out when she’s finally put it together. “What are the odds?”
“I don’t know.”
Neither of us says a word about our identical drink orders, or anything else, until Lucia brings them back. We both reach for the milkshake first.
“I guess we do have something in common,” she says after a long drink. She sits back. “Do you come here a lot?”
I’m sure it’s obvious I do since Lucia didn’t even have to ask my drink order, but I nod anyway. “Dad and I come every Sunday for dinner.” Sometimes more. He doesn’t like to cook and despite my sugary drink preferences, they have some healthy options that aren’t bad too.
Lacey files away that information with a nod, staring at me in a way that makes me want to squirm, like she sees more than I want her to.
“Congrats on the game, by the way. I don’t think I said that earlier.”
“Thanks.”
“Was your dad happy?” She holds the straw of her shake between her thumb and pointer finger.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“You can’t tell?” Her brows lift as she studies me.
“Happy with the team, still disappointed with me.”
She nods slowly. “He’s hard on you. Expects a lot. Like Claire’s mom with her.”
“He can be, but I doubt any parent would be happy with their kid failing school.”
“Fair,” she says. “What about your mom?”
“She doesn’t really keep tabs on that stuff.”
Lacey arches one brow.
“After they got divorced, she moved back to London.”
Still studying me carefully, Lacey nods. “Do you see her often?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I used to go there for a couple weeks every summer, but it’s been a few years since I’ve gone.”
“Really?” Lacey asks.
“She got remarried a few years ago. He has two young kids, so they’re pretty busy. And I have soccer.”
She’s still looking at me with that wide-eyed surprise, so I add, “They make a trip here every year, usually in January.”
“It must be hard not seeing her more,” Lacey says.
Is it weird that it actually isn’t that hard?
Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it. I don’t miss her so much as I wonder what it might have been like if she and my dad had stayed together.
Where would we have lived? Probably not Frost Lake.
How would my life have been different? How would Dad be different? Would he be happier?
“She emails and texts and on holidays she’ll call so we can video chat.” The latter usually ends with both her and Dad putting on these fake-ass smiles and talking all polite like I don’t know they’d rather pretend the other doesn’t exist.
“Don’t you want to talk to her more than that?”
I’m taken aback by the question and the answer is more complicated than I want to admit, so I nod.
“You could call her.”
“What?”
“You said she emails and texts and calls. Why don’t you try reaching out to her?” Lacey asks.
It’s such a simple suggestion I’m embarrassed it hadn’t really occurred to me. Or maybe it did, but it’s always felt like my mom should be the one to initiate it.
“What about your dad?” I ask, hoping to turn the focus off me.
“What about him?” A smile stretches across her face and I get the sense right away that she has a much different relationship with her dad than I do.
“What’s he like? Do you get along?” I only know the little tidbits she’s dropped over the years. He does some sort of research, is a little scattered, works a lot.
“Yeah, we get along great. He works long hours, but he’s really smart, and he loves his job.” She shrugs like it doesn’t bother her. Maybe it doesn’t. I can’t tell. Lacey is such an optimist. I’m not sure even she knows when she’s disappointed.
“What would he do if you failed a test?” I ask.
“Assuming I told him, I guess he’d remind me that school is important and tell me I can do anything I want if I put my mind to it.”
My brows rise. The thought of her keeping something from her dad feels so opposite of everything else I know about her. “And if you didn’t tell him?”
“Let’s just say the last time he looked at a report card I think I was in fourth or fifth grade.”
“What’s the point of getting good grades then?” I’m only half joking. If it weren’t for the GPA rule to play athletics at Frost Lake, I wouldn’t care if I passed or failed.
She laughs, the sound warm and a little teasing. “I want to go to Stanford. And even with my grades, that’s going to be a long shot.”
“Why there?”
“It’s the best college in the country.”
“That’s it?”
She considers me for a moment while she takes another drink of her shake. “What do you want to do after high school?”
“Play soccer.”
“Where?”
“Whichever team wants me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, well, pretend you could have your pick. Which one then?”
“Arsenal.” Just like my dad. But not because of him.
“Why?”
“They’re the best.”
Her eyes light up, and she tips her head. “That’s why I want to go to a top-rated college.”
I smile, nodding my understanding. “Another thing we have in common, I guess.”
“Who knew?” She sounds more surprised than I feel.