Rory
was eating with Owen, she tried to be present, but she couldn’t stop checking to see if Jacob had texted.
The restaurant was a bit deserted, Wednesday being one of the slowest nights for her dad’s business. But it still felt cozy,
with a fire crackling in the small fireplace against one wall and the autumnal decor of leaves and apples behind the bar.
Every table had a little gourd centerpiece, and the seasonal menu was full of butternut squash, pumpkin, and apple-based dishes.
The conversation in the room was hushed, and piano music played at a low volume from hidden speakers.
Rory’s dad arrived and placed bowls of steaming food in front of them.
“Two house specials for my two favorite people!” he announced.
It was his famous autumn stew, with braised beef, carrots, potatoes, and pumpkin, garnished with toasted pumpkin seeds.
He stood back and smiled at them in his slightly stained apron and chef whites, his floppy hair pulled back in a headband.
“Thanks, Dad!” Owen said, immediately grabbing a fork.
Rory put her phone down and sighed.
“Why so glum, chum?” her father asked, lightly knocking her arm with his fist.
For one, she knew her dad had insisted they come down to the restaurant for dinner only because he was feeling guilty about
not coming to homecoming or regionals this weekend. But what was really bothering her was Jacob. And not just the very real
possibility of him having to step away from the team due to either a failing grade or his torn athletic loyalties. She wished
he could somehow cheer and play soccer. He was so good at both sports—better at soccer, of course, but he’d picked up everything she and the squad had
taught him so easily. He should be able to do both.
Assuming he aced his test. Which she was sure he had.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she told her father finally, reaching for the bread basket at the center of the table.
“Ah, the classic parental brush-off. Not working this time.” He shooed her sideways, farther into the round booth, and sat
down in the seat she’d vacated. “Just tell me. I know I’m an ancient dinosaur, but maybe I can actually help.” He slid her
bowl over so it was in front of her again.
“Don’t you have to be in the kitchen?” She unfolded the linen napkin at her place and draped it across her lap.
“It’s slow right now,” he said, looking around at the few other occupied tables. “Besides, I want to know what’s going on
with you.”
Rory took a deep breath. “It’s more about my friend Jacob. He’s been a soccer player basically forever, but the coach recently
got annoyed with him and suspended him from the team.”
“What did he do?” her dad asked, taking a piece of bread for himself.
“It’s kind of a long story, but basically he was just being . . . well, Jacob.” Rory gave a short laugh. “He likes to pull pranks and stuff, and I guess he went too far. Anyway, when Stuart got hurt,
Jacob stepped in to take his place so we could still compete at regionals.”
“You forgot the part about how he stepped in because he likes you, but go on,” Owen added, his mouth half full of food.
Rory blushed hard.
“Oh, really? He likes you? Like, likes you likes you? What about Tucker?” her dad asked.
“I broke up with Tucker.”
Her dad looked shocked, and she could tell he was about to ask about a million follow-up questions, so she hurried to go on.
“It’s not about that right now,” she said, lifting her fork like a sword.
Her dad raised his hands in surrender. “Got it. Not talking about Tucker. Okay, so what’s the problem? It sounds like Jacob
is a stand-up guy who came through for you in your time of need. You still get to compete this weekend, right?”
Rory bit her tongue to keep from making a sarcastic remark about the fact that he’d managed to remember regionals were this
weekend.
Instead she said, “There’s also a big soccer game on Sunday. And I know Jacob wants to play in it, even though he says he’d
never bail on me. Or the squad.” She took a bite of her food and paused for a second as the rich, salty flavors coated her
tongue. “I just wish there was a way he could do both. Compete at regionals and play in the match.”
“I mean . . . maybe there is,” her dad said. “Where are regionals again?”
“In Fairmont,” she said. “At the community college.”
Owen perked up and pulled his phone toward him. “And where’s the soccer game?”
“It’s at Bergen High,” she said. “But regionals are an all-day thing. I don’t think—”
“It’s a night game,” Owen said, turning the phone around to show her the screen. He’d pulled up the Woodmont varsity soccer
schedule, and sure enough, the game didn’t start until eight.
“What time does your competition end?” her father asked, tapping away at his own phone.
“Wait, I know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t matter. He can’t play in the soccer game unless his coach lets him back
on the team, and so far, he’s been pretty clear that isn’t happening,” Rory told them.
“Okay, but just humor me,” her dad said. “I know regionals is a long day, but what time do they usually present the trophies?”
“Around six? Usually. It depends.” She was starting to feel a little swirl of hope in her gut, and she leaned over to try
to see her dad’s phone screen. “Sometimes deliberations take a little longer.”
“Looks like the drive from the community college to Bergen High is about fifty-two minutes.” He looked up at her and smiled.
“It’s close,” Owen said. “But it’s possible.”
Rory took her dad’s phone out of his hand and stared at the map. Her whole body tingled. It was possible. Jacob could do both.
“But what’re you going to do about Coach Fitz?” Owen said. “He teaches my gym class, and he’s a total jerk.”
“Owen! Don’t talk about your teachers like that!” his father said.
“What? He makes us do burpees if he catches us slacking. I hate burpees.”
“Who doesn’t?” Rory and her dad said at the same time.
“Even if he is a jerk, he wants the soccer team to win,” Rory said. “Maybe if I talk to him . . . tell him about the dedication
Jacob’s shown to our squad . . . he’ll soften up and let him play?”
Her father grinned and ruffled her hair. “That’s my girl.” He tore off another piece of bread and popped it into his mouth.
“So if you and Tucker are no longer a thing, then who are you going to homecoming with?”
Rory lifted her shoulders. “Layla says we could just go together. Gwen’s bringing a guy friend from her youth group. We could
all just hang.”
“You should ask Jacob!” Owen said.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” her father added, eating more bread. “Your face kind of lights up when you talk about him.”
“It does not!” she said, blushing.
“Does so!” her dad and brother said in unison.
“You can go now, Dad.” Rory shoved him out of the booth with both hands.
“Okay, okay. I know when I’m not wanted.” He got up from the table and clapped his hands together. “All right, my VIPs. You
know where to find me if you need anything else.”
They waved goodbye and Rory dug into her food, already planning her speech to Coach Fitz.
“Text Jacob!” Owen said. “Tell him we figured it out!”
“No. Not until it’s a done deal. I don’t want to get his hopes up,” she said.
But she was going to make it happen. And Jacob was going to love her forever when she did.