Chapter 16 #2
He walked past me, heading to the stairs. “Drama is a good hobby, but it won’t put food on the table.” He’d said the sentence a million times. Usually, I agreed with him. This time it bothered me.
“Cooper’s mom supports his football ambitions. Must be nice.”
Dad stopped and turned back to me. “She hopes he’ll get a college scholarship.
I would also be happy if you got a college scholarship.
But once Cooper is in college, he won’t be majoring in football.
He’ll get a sensible degree so that if he doesn’t make it to the NFL, he’ll still have a good job.
You should do the same.” He started back up the stairs.
Now he was using Cooper as an example of how I should live my life? That’s what we’d come to. Cooper probably had already chosen some parent-approved major but I couldn’t ask my father what that was because a real girlfriend should know.
Dad cast a glance at me over his shoulder. “UCLA has student legal societies with mock trials and legal internships in LA. You’d like that.”
He was always telling me which schools in the area had good prelaw programs.
And okay, he was right about majoring in drama.
Even if I planned on becoming an actress—and I knew that was a long shot as a career choice—it’s not like bringing a drama degree to an audition would sway anyone.
The casting director either thought you could play the part or not.
No fancy college piece of paper required.
Still, I didn’t like the way my dad had my career planned out as though it was his choice and not mine. “Drama and law aren’t the only choices. Maybe I’ll decide to major in interpretive dance.”
Without looking at me, he said, “I’ll tell Iris that when Cooper’s jersey comes through the wash, she’s to give it to me so I can return it to Nicole.”
Iris was our cleaning lady who came twice a week.
“I’ll wash it myself,” I called.
“You’ll forget,” he called back. “It will end up on your bedroom floor with your other clothes.”
He was the second person today to accuse me of being a slob. I wasn’t that bad, and I wouldn’t let him have Cooper’s shirt. To prove the point, I spent the next hour picking up my room.
Sheesh, this is what fake dating Cooper had done to me. I was willingly cleaning my room.
I had never called him before, but that night, just before bed, I did. My finger hovered over his name longer than I’d like to admit. Then I hit call.
He picked up on the second ring. “What’s up?” he asked in a hushed, urgent voice. He clearly thought some new development had happened that I needed to tell him about.
“Nothing important.” I flopped onto my bed, and the mattress gave a soft whump beneath me. “I just need to know what you’re majoring in at college.”
A pause. “Why?”
I pulled the covers up around me and wedged the phone between my cheek and pillow.
“My dad was telling me I should major in something sensible like you. I couldn’t even argue about that because I don’t know what you’re planning to major in.
A believable girlfriend should know.” I shifted onto my side and closed my eyes. “So what are your hopes and dreams?”
“You’re not majoring in drama?” he asked in surprise. “I figured that was a given, what with your years of singing lessons, theater camp, the scales you do every day—”
“Plays are fun,” I cut in, before he could recite my résumé back to me. “I’ll always do community theater or something. But just because you love something doesn’t mean it’s a good career choice. I like cooking, but I’m not becoming a chef. I like fashion, but I’m not designing anything.”
There was a slight rustle on his end—maybe he was lying on his bed too. “Ok, so what unsensible thing do you want to major in that your dad is using me as an example of sensibleness?”
“Nothing.” I knew I wasn’t making sense. “That’s the problem. I don’t have a major picked. My dad thinks I should be a lawyer, but if I do choose that, I want to make sure it’s my idea, not something I’m doing because he thinks I should.”
“You’re only seventeen,” he said. “You still have plenty of time to figure it out.”
I hadn’t realized how tense I was until I felt myself relax. He was right. I hadn’t even finished high school yet. There was still time. I stared at the ceiling, tracing patterns in the glow of the hallway light. “You never told me what you’re majoring in,” I reminded him.
Another pause. “I don’t know either. That’s the whole point of college general ed classes, isn’t it? You take a bunch of stuff, see what you like and what you never want to do again. Like writing essays on British literature. I’ve already checked off whatever career that leads to from my list.”
I tucked the blanket tighter under my chin. “If you don’t know what you’re majoring in, why was my dad so sure you’d pick something sensible?”
“Probably because I will,” he said, like it was obvious. “That’s the reasonable thing to do.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” he asked.
“I was just thinking how ironic it would be if you ended up being the boyfriend my dad liked the best.”
Even though I couldn’t see Cooper, I could somehow see his smug smile. “It wouldn’t be ironic, it would be proof your dad has good taste.”
“Right. Good night, O Sensible One.”
“Good night,” he said. And I could still hear his smile hanging in the air between us.
I only saw Cooper in passing for the rest of the school week, but we kept up a steady stream of texts. Each morning when I fed Mascot, I snapped a picture of the cat and sent it to him along with messages like, He’s warming up. I can tell!
It had become an inside joke. The cat still kept his distance and gave me haughty, half-lidded stares.
More and more people had heard that our trip to the principal’s office had turned into our parents dating, and nearly every acquaintance felt the need to share their opinion on that.
“Karma has a sense of humor.”
“Well, you’re playing a matchmaker in Hello, Dolly! I guess you know how to bring couples together.”
A few girls sighed and said some version of, “It’s not fair. You won’t even appreciate being forced to spend time with Cooper.”
I was torn between being perplexed with this bump in popularity and wondering if Cooper was right about me craving attention because I enjoyed it. I was at least temporarily a little cooler by association.
c c c
On Friday night, I was once again parked in the front row of the bleachers with my dad and Cooper’s family to watch football.
“I’ll take footage of the game,” my father told me, “so you can use it for your new football reel. Have you started that?”
And now I was actually going to have to work on a new football reel because my dad was paying attention to whether I did or not.
“I haven’t had a chance yet,” I admitted. “I’ll work on it this weekend.”
And that was how Cooper could take up my entire weekend without even being in it.
The second football game didn’t seem nearly as tedious as the first. I still only cared about the plays because they mattered to Cooper and his family, but there were advantages to watching him run around on the field in tight pants and shoulder pads.
As they say in noir films, the guy was easy on the eyes.
He had a rhythm and grace on the field, like nothing he did there took any effort.
Our team stayed ahead the whole time. I cheered as loudly as anybody during the last play when Cooper faked a throw and ran the ball in for a touchdown.
When the game ended, we gathered up our things.
Kinsley and Harper stopped by to talk to me, so I didn’t catch up to my dad and the Nashes for a few minutes.
They’d gone to the field to wait for Cooper.
Even though my father wasn’t making an exception to my grounding tonight and I had to go home instead of out to get ice cream, I still wanted to congratulate Cooper on the game.
“Don’t bother waiting,” Ms. Nash told me. “A scout from San Diego State is talking to him. He’ll be even later than usual.”
I perked up. “A scout? That’s good news, right?”
“Depends on what the scout says,” Ms. Nash said, but she was beaming. It was good news.
When I got home, I texted Cooper congratulations and asked how things had gone with the scout. I figured he wouldn’t answer until tomorrow. Everyone he knew was probably asking him about it.
He answered me after a few minutes.
Cooper: The scout said he was impressed with my performance, he’ll keep an eye on me, and he hopes to see me in an Aztec uniform one day.
Me: What does that mean? A scholarship?
Cooper: I have no idea.
Me: You didn’t ask in a roundabout way?
Cooper: I don’t do roundabout. He said he wanted films of me playing, though.
Me: Oh, I have some!
Cooper: You’re so not funny
Me: San Diego State will want you. Everyone wants you.
Cooper: Everyone?
The problem with texting is you can’t tell a person’s tone of voice. Was he flirting or calling me out for hyperbole in my encouragement?
I decided to go with flirting.
Me: Everyone. I especially want you.
He took a long time to answer. I saw the dots going and stopping.
Dang. He hadn’t been flirting. Now the conversation would be cringey.
I hurriedly wrote:
Don’t stress out about a scholarship. Plenty of people go to college without one and lead happy and productive lives anyway. Worst case scenario: you get to be a normal person and become an orthodontist.
Cooper: An orthodontist is the worst-case scenario?
Me: You obviously never had to have braces.
Cooper: Nope
Me: Lucky
Cooper: I want you too, Mads. Goodnight.
I knew he was just writing that in case our parents checked our texts. But really, what a way to sign off.
My feelings toward him were changing, I realized. And that wasn’t a good thing. He liked Dahlia. She was beautiful, sophisticated, and popular.
She was the one he wanted.