Well, I’m a certified asshole. I didn’t mean to hook up with Ashtyn. Kissing her felt damn good . . . and made me want to lose control with her. Which is why I made up that idiotic story about posting a picture of us kissing online. I didn’t know any other way to push her far enough away so she’d hate me.
Ashtyn isn’t just any random girl. She’s Brandi’s sister and a girl who’d never hook up with a guy without thinking that she’d end up in a serious relationship. Her mom left her, her sister left her, her dad might as well have left her. I need her to think I’m an asshole, because no matter what happens between us, I’m leaving soon and I’m not coming back.
I set the football in front of her bedroom door, knowing it’s a lame peace offering but not knowing what else to do or say. I knew she liked it by the way she studied the Dallas Cowboys’ signatures as if they held some secret football code.
In the morning, Brandi comes in my room while I’m still half-asleep. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt that hugs her pregnant belly. Falkor trots in behind her with a chewed-up football in his mouth. He sits next to my bed and drops the drool-covered, deflated ball. Aikman’s signature is torn in half . . . some of it is missing, probably been swallowed by the beast.
“He ate it,” I mumble in shock.
“I know, isn’t that so cute! Ashtyn was tossing it to him this morning in the front yard, teaching him how to play fetch.”
Shit. Ashtyn really knows how to say fuck you without uttering a word.
“I have an appointment for an ultrasound next week,” my stepmother says in an excited tone. “I want you to come with me.”
“No, thanks.”
“Oh, come on. Since your dad’s not here, I really really want you and Julian to be there.” The woman doesn’t realize that it might be weird for me to go to her ultrasound. “I can take you and Julian out afterward, like . . .” I can practically hear the rusty wheels in her brain turning. “I’ll take you guys, like, apple picking afterward. You’ll love it!”
“Apple-picking season isn’t until the fall,” I inform her.
“Oh. Right. We can do something else, then. Something super fun. Super.”
“How about we just go to lunch.” At least I can be spared having to eat another one of her home-cooked meals. I sit up and try not to stare at her growing belly.
“Does that mean you’ll go?”
I look at her pleading face and feel sorry for her. I guess if she were my wife, I’d want someone to go with her. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Thank you, Derek! You’re The Best!” She attempts to sit on the edge of my bed, but loses her balance and almost tumbles off until I reach out to steady her. Giving up on sitting, she stands next to my bed and rests her hands atop her stomach. “So . . . I hear from a little birdie that you got a letter from your grandmother. That’s nice.”
“Right.” If she knew my grandmother only cared about herself and would probably insult Brandi on sight, I don’t think she’d think it was nice.
“What did she say?”
“That she’s joinin’ the circus as the bearded lady.”
“Really?”
“No, not really. She’s dyin’ and wants me to visit her in Texas.” She cocks her head. “Is that another joke?” “No joke. I’m gonna visit her.” After last night, I realized Ashtyn is my kryptonite. I feel myself getting too close and need to back off.
I hear the front door slam. Ashtyn must’ve left for practice and she’s obviously still mad. Two hours later, when she pulls into the driveway in her beat-up car and I’m fixing the broken slats on the shed, I still don’t know what I’m going to say to her.
She limps into the house. Her hair is in a low ponytail and she’s got grass stains on her pants. She definitely had a rough practice. I tell myself to leave her alone, but I can’t get her off my mind. I find her in the living room soaking her foot in a bucket of ice. Brandi is painting her nails and Julian is sitting next to Ashtyn watching TV.
“Ashtyn, can we talk?” I ask.
“No.” She gestures to the bucket with her foot inside it. “I’m kind of indisposed and am sick of playing games. Call Bree.”
“Don’t give me crap. I didn’t plan last night to play out the way it did.”
Julian taps me on the leg. “Derek, you said ‘crap.’”
“So?”
He leans in close and whispers, “It’s a bad word.”
Brandi nods. “It’s written on our no-no word list. You can’t say it.”
Only Brandi could have a no-no word list.
“‘Crap’ is not a bad word.” I look to Ashtyn for confirmation, but she shrugs like she has no opinion whatsoever. The girl can think of an argument for any little thing, but when it comes to backing me up, she’s at a loss for words. “I can think of a ton of other words that are way worse than ‘crap.’”
“Stop saying it.” Ashtyn joins the no-no list brigade. “You’re corrupting my nephew.”
“You’re just pissed at me ’cause of last night.”
“You’re so wrong,” Ashtyn says. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Wait, did I miss something? What happened last night?” Brandi asks.
Ashtyn gives me a level stare. “Nothing happened. Right, Derek?”
“Right.”
“Trampolining, then White Fence Farm,” Ashtyn says.
Brandi puts down her polish and furrows her brows. “Then why are you pissed at him? It sounds like fun.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Brandi. Okay? You just keep thinking that Derek’s perfect just like everyone else.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” I tell her. “Not even you, Ashtyn.”
“I never once said I was perfect. In fact, I’m an idiot.”
“Join the club.”
When Gus arrives home a few minutes later, he takes one look at Ashtyn with her foot in the ice bucket and mumbles something about canceling football camp and getting his money back.
“What football camp?” Brandi asks.
“Your sister wants to drive to some football camp in Texas. By herself,” Gus announces. “It’s not happening.”
“Wait, I have an idea!” Brandi, my scatterbrained stepmother, whirls around and looks at me as if I will save the day. She claps her hands, careful not to ruin her freshly manicured nails and says excitedly, “Derek is going to Texas to visit his grandmother. Derek can drop Ashtyn at football camp, then go see his grandmother. Then he can pick Ashtyn back up and come home. It’s the perfect solution!”
Everyone’s eyes are on me. What, does Brandi think that putting us in a car together will miraculously fix whatever’s wrong in her sister’s life? Not gonna happen. “I don’t think so.”
Ashtyn nods. “I agree. That’s the worst idea.”
Gus nods. “Then it’s settled, Ashtyn. You’re not going.”