Dad laughs, reaching over to shake Cass’s hand, our mom waiting her turn behind him. “Ah, so that explains why you didn’t want us to come up to the room.”
“It was Rowe’s idea,” Cass says, shifting Dad’s attention to Rowe, who is manically snapping and unsnapping the button on her wallet she’s so nervous to meet my parents.
“Remind me to consult you when these two short-sheet my bed over the holidays. And fill my car with packing peanuts. And paint my fingernails with red Magic Marker while I’m napping.” Rowe laughs lightly when she shakes my dad’s hand, and I can see her relax just a little.
“I’ll make you a manual on how to deal with them,” she says, and I can’t help but move closer to her and put my arm around her. At first, I’m afraid she’s going to shrug me away, but instead, she reaches for my fingertips with her hand and holds on.
“Rowe, so nice to meet you,” my mom says, giving me a wink from the side, letting me know she approves. My mom likes my type too.
“Thanks for inviting me, Mr. and Mrs. Preeter,” Rowe says when she shakes my mom’s hand, her voice wavering; I can actually hear her pulse racing through her vocal cords. My mom holds onto her hand and covers it with her other one, looking Rowe right in the eyes.
“Please, it’s just Cathy and Dave. And it’s our pleasure,” Mom says. I see Rowe whisper my parents’ names to herself when they turn away, like she’s trying to memorize them, and I almost lean in to kiss her on the cheek when she does, but I catch myself.
McConnell is more of a baseball school, it would seem. By the third quarter, the McConnell Bulls were trailing the Miller Pirates by four touchdowns, and the stadium was only a third of the way full. I sat next to Ty, and the girls sat in front of us. I was stuffed—one of the nice things about sitting in the box was free food, and good food, too. Not the cafeteria shit I’ve been eating.
I can tell Cass and Rowe are arguing about something. Not a serious fight or anything, but Rowe definitely seems unhappy. I nudge Ty and nod toward them; he just shrugs. I’m trying not to eavesdrop, but I hear bits and pieces.
“Where am I supposed to stay?” Rowe whispers. Cass says something back, but I can’t tell what it is.
“Cass…pleeeeease? Can’t you go there?” More whispering, and Rowe turns to look behind her—just enough, that I jump and quickly pretend I’m intensely watching the blowout happening on the field.
When the third quarter ends, Cass gets up from her seat and Rowe slumps down in hers. I watch carefully as Cass walks to the other side of Ty, whispering in his ear, and soon he’s backing up in his chair and Cass is grabbing her purse from a table.
“We’re heading back. Mom, Dad—see you guys tomorrow at dinner?” My mom leans in and kisses Ty on the top of his head and shakes Cass’s hand again, walking them to the suite door before returning to her seat. Rowe is sitting alone directly in front of me, and she’s getting smaller with every second.
“This seat taken?” I climb over the back of the seat Cass left open, feeling like an idiot, but just dying to get closer to her. She just smiles and looks to the field. “We don’t have to stay you know. My parents don’t care. My dad’s firm has a branch here. That’s how they got the seats. They didn’t pay for them.”
“I want to stay ‘til the end,” she says, her smile fake and stiff.
“Sure,” I say, sliding my feet up to rest on the bar in front of us. I keep my hands in my own lap, because Rowe is hugging herself again. I’m pretty sure I know what she and Cass were fighting about, but I want her to say it. I don’t want to be the jerk who pushes her to spend the night in my room when she clearly doesn’t want to.
“Paige called. She’s staying at the Delta house all weekend. She’s probably going to move out in a week or two. They like her.” Rowe keeps her eyes on the field when she talks. I try to keep mine there, too, but I slip every few seconds to catch a glimpse of her fidgeting hands and shaking leg.
“Oh. Well…I guess I’m glad Paige has found her people?” I don’t know what to say, and I can’t even make a funny joke.
“Ty is spending the night in our room.” I gathered this much, and I am doing cartwheels inside at the thought of Rowe coming home with me. But I want her to want to be there. This forced feeling emanating from her body feels really sucky.
“Well, there’s always my friend the lounge sofa,” I say, finally turning to her so I can see how she reacts. When she doesn’t, I’m even more confused—either I’ve offended her by not offering my place or she’s genuinely indifferent about the lounge sofa.