Chapter Sixteen Vaughn
Chapter Sixteen
Vaughn
Rowan wraps both arms around me and lifts my feet off the ground. He bounces us in place, yelling, “Cap! Cap! Cap!”
“What’s going on?” Austin asks, stepping up to us as Rowan releases me.
“He passed!” Rowan’s excitement matches my own. “The Cap is back!”
Austin’s expression is one of relief, followed by joy. “Thank god.”
In seconds, the news has spread to our teammates, and they crowd around to join in the excitement. I hate that I let them down in the first place, but it feels good to know they missed me and are glad to have me back on the field with them.
Through the commotion, I spot Lacey watching from her locker. She and Claire stand together. Claire smiles, but Lacey’s expression isn’t as easy to read.
I weave my way through the circle of soccer players and make my way to the girls.
Claire steps toward me, giving me a quick one-armed hug. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Claire glances back at Lacey and then walks past me toward the guys. It’s just Lacey standing in front of the lockers now.
Adrenaline pumps through me, and I don’t think twice about leaning down and hugging her so she’s in my arms. Surprise makes her body stiffen at first, then slowly she melts into me and wraps her arms around my neck.
She’s short, and the movement has our bodies pressed flush against each other. I can feel her heart racing in time with mine. Her hair is in my face and my arms tighten, clutching her to me and not wanting to let her go. My skin tingles with awareness of how much I like this feeling.
I don’t know how long we hug, but when I pull back, her cheeks are a pretty shade of pink.
“Congrats,” she says a little breathlessly.
I’m amped up on excitement and on her. I can’t remember feeling this light. “Ninety-five percent. I think that’s the best grade I’ve gotten on a math test since elementary school.”
“I knew you could do it.”
“You’re the only one,” I tell her. And I’m not exaggerating.
Sure, my teammates hoped I could, and it’s not like any of them said directly that they thought I’d fail, but I could see the worry in their faces.
Lacey believed in me, and I don’t know why it felt so good for her to have my back, but it did.
It meant a lot. Actually, I do know why.
I’ve never had that kind of support before.
Dad is too busy being my coach and my teammates and friends expect me to have all the answers.
It felt good to have her in my corner, cheering me on with no ulterior motive.
“I have something for you.” She gives her head a small shake and turns to her locker.
“You got me something?” I ask.
“It’s not much.” She pulls out a pack of Nerds with a blue bow tied around it. She tosses it at me, and I catch it one handed.
“It was that or a protein bar,” she says, poking a little fun at the gift I gave her. “I took a chance. Congrats, Nerd.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “Thank you, Lacey. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You’re welcome.”
* * *
Dad’s excitement over my test grade is far more subdued. He glances at the paper with my grade circled in red at the top, then sets it down on his desk.
“I have half a mind to bench you this weekend anyway,” he says and my heart sinks.
All this work can’t have been for nothing.
I open my mouth to protest, and he holds up a hand. I wish I could say his disappointment didn’t put a damper on my mood, but it does. My teammates and the game are important to me, but it’s his approval I seem to be in constant search of.
“I’m not going to do that. The team needs you. More than that, they want you on the field with them. You’ve earned their respect this year.” Just not his seems to be the unspoken message hanging in the air.
* * *
On Thursday morning I wait until dad has left the house for school and then call my mom.
My heart rate picks up speed as the ringtone plays in my ear.
This is a dumb idea. We haven’t talked in months.
The last email I got from her was about my Algebra II grade.
She and dad communicate about me, though when and how I’m not really sure.
I’ve never heard him on the phone with her, so my guess is very terse, clipped text messages.
“Hello?” she answers the phone with a clear hint of concern in her voice.
“Hey, Mom. It’s me.” Duh, of course it is, you idiot, she has caller ID. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.
“Is everything okay, Vaughn?” Mom asks.
I never call, so her worry is probably justified.
“Yeah. Everything is fine.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“You don’t usually call,” she says.
“Neither do you.”
The line’s quiet and I’m regretting this call a million times over.
“How are you?” she asks, this time sounding more like her usual cheery self.
My mom is a lot like Lacey in that she’s bubbly and happy.
It’s hard to picture her and my dad together, though I think he’s gotten crankier over the years.
In the early photos of them together he looks as smiley and happy as her.
“I’m good.” I drag my left palm down my thigh. “I passed my Algebra II test. Dad’s going to let me play this weekend.”
“That’s great. Congratulations. Who do you play? Are they any good?”
We fall into easier conversation after that.
I tell her about Saint Catherine. She knows soccer better than most people, a side effect of being married to a professional soccer player, and I’m happy to find that even though she doesn’t know much about my team, she can follow along as I talk to her like I would with dad.
I wonder if they talked about soccer like this when he played.
It’s only when I catch the time on my watch that I realize we’ve been talking for almost thirty minutes, and I need to get to school.
“I better go. If I’m late, dad will find another reason to bench me.”
“Okay. Well, it was nice talking to you. I know how busy you are and me too, but I miss you.”
“Yeah, same.” I stand. “Maybe I’ll call again next week?” I say the words, but they come out more like a question. “I can tell you about the game and how we dominated.”
She laughs softly in my ear. “I’ll look forward to it.”
* * *
The rest of the week is spent preparing for Saint Catherine.
We practice long and hard each night and during the day we’re talking about it every second we can between classes.
Friday night Austin invites me and Rowan over.
We camp out in the living room in front of the TV and watch videos of Saint Catherine’s last few games, pausing every so often to strategize.
“They’re good,” Austin says, lips curling in distaste.
“We’re better,” Rowan’s words are more definitive. Always the optimist. He and Lacey are a lot alike in that regard.
My thoughts keep going back to her. I’ve missed studying with her at night. Not that there’s been a lot of time for that.
“What do you think, Cap?” Rowan nudges me, pulling me back to the moment.
“Every team is good from here on out. We just have to be better.”
“We are better,” Austin’s tone leaves no room for debate. I hope he’s right.
Rowan lifts his can of Coke. “Cheers to that.”
I mimic the movement with my glass of water, then chug the rest of it. “I should get home. I don’t want to give Coach any reasons to bench me tomorrow.”
“Please don’t. I can’t keep carrying this team all by myself.” Austin’s smirk is accompanied by a punch in the shoulder from Rowan as the three of us stand.
Rowan heads out first while I help Austin carry our trash and empty glasses into the kitchen.
“You really didn’t need to help clean up,” he insists.
“I don’t mind,” I say, then add, “Beats going home to the cameras and uncomfortable furniture.”
He chuckles. “Still filming the documentary, huh?”
I nod, setting the dirty glasses in the sink.
“What exactly is it anyway?” His smile widens. “I know he’s your dad and whatever, but I’m so fucking excited to watch it.”
“How about we swap families, and you can have a front-row seat?”
“Don’t tease me like that, Collins.”
“Anytime you want.”
“My siblings would drive you out of your mind in less than an hour.”
I shake my head. “Not before you had your hopes and dreams crushed by my dad’s disappointed stares.”
“He’s not disappointed in you.”
Talking about my dad with my teammates is always a little awkward. They respect and admire him, and it isn’t like I want to take that from them. But being his son and living with him isn’t as glamorous as they might think.
When we’re done, he walks me back to the living room.
“Heading home?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Not stopping by Lacey’s house first?”
I feel one brow lift. “No. Why?”
“No reason.”
Clearly he asked for a reason. And now he’s grinning.
“You and Lacey…”
My pulse quickens as I force myself not to squirm under his stare. “Yeah?”
“Just friends or is there more going on there?”
I don’t immediately know how to answer him.
“Sorry. I know it’s none of my business, but you’ve seemed different. And Lacey is cool as hell. Except when she’s threatening me.”
I let out a small chuckle. “I’m really grateful to her, but we’re just friends.” My words sound uncertain, even to my ears.
He studies me a beat before taking my words as fact. “All right. Thought I’d ask.”
Austin follows me to the door, and when I step outside, I turn and lift a hand in a wave. “See you tomorrow.”
I’m only a few steps down the sidewalk to my SUV when he calls out, “Collins.”
I stop and turn halfway around to look at him.
“I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too.”