“Have a seat,” Mom said, waving to the two empty chairs at the kitchen table, where she and Dad sat facing each other.
“What’s going on?” Aaron asked, doing his best to sound casual.
“We’d like to know if you were at Corner Pizza last Wednesday afternoon.”
Aaron and I made eye contact for a millisecond. For me, it was long enough to decide that if Mom and Dad knew enough to ask, denying the truth would be pointless.
“Okay, you got us,” Aaron said. “We were downtown and I had to use the bathroom. My friend Will works there and he let me in.”
Then it was Mom and Dad’s turn to exchange a look.
“You’re probably wondering why we were there in the middle of the day, right?” Aaron asked.
“Actually, yes,” Dad replied. “Why weren’t you volunteering? And Wyatt, why weren’t you at golf camp?”
I couldn’t answer right away. Not until I pushed down the lump in the back of my throat with a gulp. I could feel myself on the edge of cracking, but I knew I had to trust Aaron just a little bit longer.
“Well, I left camp early that day.”
“Why?” Dad asked.
“I guess I needed a break,” I said. “We’d already played nine holes, and …”
“It was my idea,” Aaron continued. “They gave all the volunteers a half day, so I texted Wyatt to see if he wanted to do something.”
I wasn’t sure I had one more lie in me, but I dug down deep, like I was finishing the last mile of a marathon. “We went to Pilchuck Market for chicken strips,” I said, picking up the story. “It was just that one time.”
“Is this the truth?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Aaron said, nodding slowly.
“Well.” Dad sighed. “I can’t say I like the idea of Wyatt leaving camp in the middle of the day, but I appreciate your honesty.”
“In the future,” Mom added, “please tell us if you do that so we know where you are.”
“Can we go?” Aaron asked.
“You can set the table,” Mom said, pointing to the dining room. “We’re going to eat soon.”
“You got it,” Aaron replied.
We had dodged another bullet, but I didn’t want to celebrate. At that moment, all I wanted to do was hide in my room until the Fourth of July.
“Oh, Aaron,” Mom said, stirring a pot of chili on the stove. “I still haven’t seen any paperwork from the parks department. And I can’t seem to find any information about the volunteer program anywhere.”
“Yeah,” Aaron replied casually as he opened the napkin drawer. “They’re not very organized. The website is way out of date. Typical city government, right, Dad?”
I began taking plates out of the cupboard, my hands shaking so much I was afraid I’d drop the whole stack.
“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Dad said. “It’s just that we don’t know anything about what you’re doing.”
“You should ask Wyatt what I do. He saw me a couple days ago.”
Aaron didn’t see it right away, but that was the moment our story finally fell apart. I just stood in the corner of the kitchen waiting for the end, not sure whether to smile or to cry.
“He did?” Mom asked.
“Yup. I think I was just finishing up lining the ball fields. So it must have been around two o’clock. Does that sound right, Wyatt?”
Dad stood in the middle of the kitchen with his arms crossed. “I’m confused. Was that the same day you stopped at Corner Pizza?”
“Huh?” Aaron said, obviously beginning to realize what he’d done.
“Wyatt said he only left golf camp early once,” Dad said. “Was that the day you went to Corner Pizza or the day he saw you in the park? Or were you lying?”
Mom and Dad both looked at me. I stared right back at them, ready to face them once and for all.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked. “Wyatt, did you leave golf camp early more than one time?”
Across the room, Aaron closed his eyes and swore under his breath as he realized his story had finally trapped me.
“Wyatt?” Dad said.
“I haven’t been to golf camp at all,” I said quietly. “I’ve been in the park, playing football.” The words fell out of my mouth like they were being pulled by gravity.
“You’ve been lying to us this whole time?” Dad asked.
“I’m really sorry,” I said. “I know it was wrong. But I’ve been playing for two weeks and I haven’t gotten hurt once.”
“Wyatt, this is very serious,” Mom said. “You violated our trust and you put yourself at risk. What if you’d gotten hurt and we weren’t able to find you? What would you have told your coach?”
“There’s no coach. It’s just kids.”
“No coach!” Mom exclaimed. “Wyatt Parker, are you telling me the whole time we thought you were at golf camp, you’ve been playing unsupervised tackle football in the park without pads or helmets?”
“Yes, but it’s not as bad as it sounds,” I said, placing the plates on the counter. I wasn’t sure which part Mom was more upset about, the tackling or the lying.
“How could it sound any worse?” Dad said, raising his voice with each word that flew out of his mouth. “You endangered yourself. You disobeyed us. And you lied to me.”
“Don’t yell at me,” I said, feeling the internal fight in me come back. I might have been wrong to lie, but I knew on some level I had a point and I wanted to make it. “I told you I didn’t want to go, but you didn’t listen.”
“That doesn’t make it okay to lie,” said Mom.
“What was I supposed to do?” I asked. “Why should I have to do whatever you guys want me to do? If you had just let me play football, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
Aaron quietly put down the napkins and began to sneak out of the kitchen.
“Stay there!” Dad ordered, never taking his eyes off me. “Who were you playing football with, Wyatt?”
“We want to talk to their parents,” Mom added.
“Friends from school?” Dad asked.
“Answer us, Wyatt,” Mom insisted.
I glanced at Aaron. He was leaning against the wall. He knew he was toast. If I told Mom and Dad who I was playing with, he’d be in even more trouble.
“I’m not saying anything,” I told her. “If you want to punish me, go ahead. But I’m not giving you any names. Playing football was more fun than anything I’ve ever done. I was good at it too. Maybe I could’ve gotten hurt, but it was worth the risk.”
Nobody said anything.
“Also,” I went on, “I think I want to try out for the high school team.”
“No way, end of discussion,” Mom said.
“Thanks a lot for listening,” I said, making a break for the stairs.
“Wyatt!” Mom called. “Come back here!”
“Let him go,” I heard Dad say.