Chapter 6 Tyler
Life at the Thompsons’ settles into a comfortable routine quickly.
When the alarm goes off in the morning, I make eggs for Ryan and me—we go through nearly a carton a day to meet our macros, and I’m gladder than ever that I insisted on getting a job to pay my way.
In the evening, we watch dumb videos on the couch until I yawn in exhaustion and excuse myself to go to sleep.
(Ryan, on the other hand, seems inexhaustible, like he never wants the party to end.) I do my own laundry and offer to run errands whenever I can—I’m so grateful to the Thompsons for letting me stay this year, and I’m going to do anything I can to lessen the burden.
“I can’t even set an empty glass down these days—you’ve swiped it out of my hand and into the dishwasher before it ever hits the coffee table,” Aunt June teases one night after dinner.
I shrug, not sure how to say, I can’t risk losing my last chance at a normal year, so I’m not going to give you any reason to get tired of your house guest.
Uncle Mike grabs a beer from the fridge and shakes his head. “We want you to make yourself at home. You can leave a footprint, you know.”
I glance at Ryan, sprawled on the couch. He left a footprint, all right: There’s a trail of shoes, backpack, and hoodie from the front door to his current spot. He meets my eye defensively. “I’ll clean up before bed!”
Uncle Mike snorts. “Maybe you two can meet in the middle.”
I smile, but it’s bittersweet. This could be so much more awkward—but I can’t help missing the way my younger sister, Savannah, would blast BTS and Taylor Swift during kitchen cleanup to motivate us, and my dad would pull out the dorkiest imitation of their dance moves while loading the dishwasher, and my mom would double over in tears of laughter.
I miss them. But I can’t think about it, because there’s no other option than this.
So, I clean up after myself, smile and say sir and ma’am, and remind myself: Be grateful.
Luckily, Hamilton Lakes football is an easy adjustment.
We’re running our last two-a-days in the dregs of summer, and I’m getting used to the team’s plays and Will’s calls.
Swapping protein-rich recipes as we bulk up for the season, passing foam rollers back and forth to stretch out after a particularly grueling session, idle chatter about dream cars and celebrity crushes and favorite players filling the air.
Creating an easy camaraderie without getting too deep—which is exactly what I want while I’m taking the measure of my new team.
Gabe has even more jittery energy than I’d clocked in my first week, cracking his knuckles with firecracker volume whenever he gets especially nervous, but he always mellows out by the end of practice.
And Kai’s really welcoming—maybe a little bit too welcoming, because it’s hard to fend off his jokes and questions about what girls have caught my eye.
Only one face comes to mind at that question, but it’s not happening.
Besides, gossiping about our love lives with my new team is a sure path to trouble.
I’m grateful for the total absorption and exhaustion. Makes it easier to start all over. Gives my mind something to chew on that’s not my own mistakes and everything left behind.
I’m jogging across the field to make it to late-afternoon practice when the routine starts feeling a little… disrupted.
Other students are arriving for orientation, picking up schedules and stashing things in lockers before the first day, and I feel a few more eyes on me than usual. When I turn, the back of my neck prickling, a group of girls in sundresses erupts into giggles and immediately looks away.
My gut churns with the familiar nerves of being the center of attention for reasons unknown. I look to Kai, who’s strapping on his helmet beside me. “What’s going on?”
He grins. “You didn’t know? Your player profile went live on the website, and people are losing their goddamn minds.” He thumps me on the back as if this is an accomplishment to be proud of. “Including that bit about how you’re single? Genius. Wish I’d thought of it.”
All the blood drains from my face. “They included that?”
“Well, I think there was one particular ‘they’ behind the choice.” Kai shakes his head admiringly. “Sabrina will do whatever it takes to boost school spirit. What a girl.”
“Yeah.” I focus on the end zone to tune out the whispers of my own name behind me. “What a girl.”
I barely make it to my first shift at the Lakeside Diner on time that evening, rushing over after showering at the end of practice. But I’m looking forward to keeping myself busy and making some extra cash while I do so.
Lindsey, the hostess and apparently the owners’ daughter, hands me a polo while studying me appraisingly. “This is the biggest one we have.”
Her tone very much implies she’s not certain it will fit, and I hold it up to my chest to check. Yeah, the shoulders might strain those seams after all the lifting I did this summer, but… “It’ll be fine.” I flash her a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
She nods. “We need the help. Normally, I’d just have you shadow Harper on your first shift, but we’re swamped, thanks to Dawson leaving us high and dry.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m happy he’s following his dreams and all, but seriously, hockey runs everything in this family. Is football any better?”
I keep my mouth shut.
Lindsey casts me one more skeptical look before moving on. “Anyway, we’re putting you on the floor and you’ll figure it out. It looks like that table wouldn’t mind a rookie server.”
I follow her gaze over my shoulder to a corner booth full of girls my age. Most of them look away as soon as I meet their eyes, busying themselves with menus and phones and serious conversations they were definitely in the middle of. But one of them grins and waves at me. “Hi, Tyler!”
Lindsey takes no pity on me at the panic in my eyes. She just groans. “So, football is exactly like hockey in all the ways that make my life hell.” She hands me an order notepad and gives me a gentle shove toward the booth. “Go get ’em, tiger. And be sure to share those tips.”
I tug the polo over my T-shirt, running a hand through my hair to smooth it back down afterward. One of the girls faux-swoons in her booth.
A flush spreads across the back of my neck, and I quickly duck to count silverware and grab napkins.
Having the eyes of cute fans following me used to be kind of fun—that’s how Kate and I started, once upon a time—but not anymore.
I do not need that kind of attention this year.
That only means getting too close to people in this school I’m trying to just float through, which means people poking around in my life, which means the possibility of another betrayal—
I force myself to take a deep breath. Keep your head down, Tyler. Enjoy your last chance to play some good games before you graduate. And then get out of this place without doing any more damage.
But why, oh why did I tell Sabrina I was single?
“What can I get you?” I ask when I arrive at the table, keeping my eyes fixed on the order pad.
The booth seems to take that as a challenge. One of the girls leans forward over the table as if daring me to look at her directly. “Do those fries come… extra thick?”
I will not look up. I will not take the bait. I will get through this shift, make some money, and all the attention will die down soon enough. “I can check,” I say as cheerfully but unaffectedly as possible.
They dissolve into giggles. “Oh, I’m sure whatever you serve will be just fine,” another one says.
“Fine indeed!” the first echoes. The giggles intensify.
I clear my throat. “Anything else I can get you?”
There’s a long, meaningful pause. Then the first girl sighs and says, “No, I don’t think my craving is on the menu.”
And then they’re really goners, eyes wide and lips pressed together in suppressed giggles. The moment I nod and duck away, they erupt in laughter and I can’t believe you said thats.
At the next table, Will and Gabe are no better. “Ohh, Tyler, your fries,” Gabe says in a high-pitched voice.
I sock him on the shoulder, rolling my eyes heavenward. “This shift is going to be endless.”
Will shrugs, but his cheeks dimple with humor. “Try to enjoy it, man. They’re harmless. And who can blame them? You’re a fine specimen! And fresh blood! And you said it yourself—you’re single!”
I groan. “Don’t remind me. I wish I could take back that whole interview.”
Gabe peers at me. “Wounds too fresh? Not ready to move on yet?”
I frown as Kate’s face swims before me. Her long brown hair, soft and layered but only shadowing her expression in my memory. The way she bit her lip and said what was clearly meant to soften the blow, but which only dug the dagger in deeper.
I’m not saying I don’t believe you—just that John’s really hurt, and his story makes a lot of sense, too. I need some space to figure it out.
Not taking sides, but not taking mine. And then things had hit our ridiculous, anonymous gossip network, and—
I grit my teeth, shake off the memory. “Something like that.”
“Enough said. But when you’re ready to move on…” He spreads his hands to indicate all the people watching this conversation. “You have plenty of options. Might not be the worst thing.”
Lindsey catches my eye across the diner, raising an eyebrow, and I straighten up. “Yeah. Maybe. Look, I gotta get back to work. Can I bring you anything?”
Will’s eyes spark with mischief. “Maybe some of those ‘extra-thick fries’—”
I flip him off as I head to my next table. I appreciate the support, but I have work to do. There’s no time to regret my life choices right now. I rip their orders off the notepad and pass them to the kitchen, following Lindsey’s pointing finger to my next table.
I’m so tired of being the center of attention. All I wanted this year was to keep my head down, enjoy some football, and let the past fade away.
I should have lied to Sabrina and told everyone I was in a relationship.