Two's Company (Four of a Kind #2)

by Kellie Bean

  After only a few weeks, Molly's already starting to look like a different dog as her legs get longer and her snout lengthens. Her ears and her feet are still both too big for her body and she seems clumsy more than ever before. She wasn't exactly graceful to begin with.

  As I listen to my sisters clump up the stairs talking to one another, it's the dog that I envy. She doesn’t have to worry about anything at all. No one expects anything from Molly, other than playing and sleeping. She'll never know the first thing about real responsibility or disappointment. At least, not if I have anything to say about it.

  The next couple of days pass a lot like the last, mostly with me avoiding anyone or anything that might make me want to talk about soccer, volunteering or school or guys. I wish I could just escape into another world like Reagan does through books or video games. I can't focus on any of it. Even picking up a comic book she's left on the kitchen table and trying to read it just for something to do, I know right away that it's never going to give me the same thrill that kicking a ball across the field does. Or helping Kendra save an animal's life.

  The one thing I do manage to properly do, is text Kendra a proper apology while I'm sitting in class on Thursday afternoon. I don't ask for my job back. I’m really hoping she'll just offer it to me anyway. I do apologize for letting her down and for being so flaky for the past few weeks. I say I understand her decision, even if I'm not sure I do, telling her again how grateful I am that she gave me a chance when I was still new in town.

  I try to tell myself that it was good now that I have a dog of my own, but as much as I love Molly, I'm not sure the experience is quite the same. My preference is still to have both–my own dog and volunteering.

  I stare at my phone for the rest of the class. She never responds. It’s possible she's just busy. Or maybe she really doesn't care what I have to say.

  It's too late, the damage is done.

  I blow off my final classes of the day and head outside to enjoy what might be the last truly warm day of the year. This time, I'm smart enough not to go home before the end of the official school day. I still ignore the concerned glances from my sisters who by the time we meet to walk home together, they’re well aware that I didn't go to all of my classes, even if they won't say anything to our parents.

  Reilly heads upstairs once we're home, so I go in the opposite direction and lock myself into our room, glad for a little bit of time where I don't have to be surrounded by people.

  I’m exhausted, but I still can’t seem to slee. So for the first time in a couple of days, I actually make an effort to catch up on the texts I've missed. After only a few different messages from teammates or friends who’re all angry, crushed, or a mixture of both, I turn my phone off all over again.

  What can I say to them that will change anything at all?

  When I go downstairs for dinner that night, I can feel both of my parents watching me more than usual. Occasionally they’ll share a glance that I can’t quite read, but they don't say anything to me, or as far as I know, to each other. Whatever they’re thinking… I don’t care.

  A week later, I find Coach Wasserman completely by accident, while I'm killing time in the library of all places during third period when I’m supposed to be in class. I went yesterday, double checking that there wasn’t anything crucial for me today.

  I've tucked myself into one of the study nooks in the corner of the room, hunching over one of my textbooks whilst trying to get caught up on a week's worth of reading. My eyes are skimming over the pages more often than not.

  "Reece." the coach says with surprise as she walks by and notices me. From the looks of it, she's here with one of her classes. I wonder what subject she teaches. I always kind of assumed she was a gym teacher.

  I start to try to come up with an excuse about what I'm doing there, before realizing that my former coach wouldn't know what my schedule was. For all she knows, I'm here in my lunch, studying like someone who actually cares about how her grades look by the end of the semester.

  I give a her a tight smile, "How are you?" I ask. There had been a point not so long ago, that I thought I'd see this woman several times a week as she took control of my athletic future. Now, I was mostly just surprised to see her.

  "I have to admit..." the coach says, "...it's a little weird to see you inside the building sitting still for a change."

  I shrug. "I guess that's my life now. A lot more sitting still."

  For a moment, it looks like the coach will leave it at that and go back to the students she's supposed to be watching. As quickly as she turns away, she turns back. "You do know that while they can take away our team, no one can stop you from playing soccer? I understand better than anyone what a blow this is, but people like you and me, were not meant for sitting still. There's always another way."

  For the quickest of moments, I think that maybe she means I should keep fighting, that there really is another way to fix all of this. But, I already know that I'm reading too much into it. She's just trying to give me a pep talk even though she no longer has to.

  Since she's the one that's opened this can of worms, I just have to ask… "So, what happened? Why was it them and not us? Who thought it was fair to give one team the okay but not the other?"

  Coach Wasserman's jaw clenches, it looks like there is so much she's dying to say. I know that look all too well, it's the ‘you're too young to hear about this’ expression teamed with the ‘I'm really not supposed to say anything’ look.

  “It was a complicated process.” The tiny spark of anger seems to glimmer in coach Wasserman's eyes. I can see it even though she's not even looking at me anymore. Instead, she’s staring off in the distance, as though looking on at someone she'd really like to punch in the face. "These budget cuts came down so suddenly. Maybe even ten years ago the decision would've been to cut all of the arts and keep the sports, but, we couldn't do that. Instead..." the coach seems to measure her words, "...the decision was made based on what would be most beneficial to the largest number of students."

  Her eyes dart back to me. There's something she's trying to will me to understand, but I'm just not getting it.

  Now I I'm angry all over again, feeling helpless all over again.

  "I did everything I could for you girls."

  "I know. We did to. I really did think we were going to have an amazing year. We had an awesome group."

  "Me too."

  The coach goes back to supervising several groups of students who seem to be working on group projects. I go back to not actually reading my textbook, turning over everything I just heard. They attempted to divide the budget in a way that would be beneficial to the biggest number of students? That seems simple enough, but there has to be more to it than that. Or maybe, I just want there to be more to it than that.

  Maybe I just want there to be more.

  I close my textbook and slip out of the library when I know Coach Wasserman is too occupied to notice me.

  After lunch and with only a little prodding, I manage to get myself to my final class of the day, actually paying attention for at least half of the period.

  As we all file out of the classroom, Jamie approaches me coming out of the room across the hall. Her hair is up in a bun that looks far more polished than how she usually does her hair. Even her outfit is cuter than I’m used to. I guess this is what she’s doing with her free time now.

  “Hey.” she says as she joins me, leaning against a set of lockers beside the classroom I just came out of.

  Instead of answering, I lean my head against Jamie’s shoulder, staying there for a few minutes as we watch everyone pass by.

  “Are you okay?” She asks, only once the flow of students has begun to quiet. The hallway is nearly empty now, leaving only a few others nearby at their lockers or talking with friends.

  Jamie and I have talked a little over the past few weeks, but neither of us or anyone else affected by the dissolution of their teams, has really been themselves s
ince the decision. There hasn’t been a single party. The few times I have ended up hanging out with my friends, we’ve ended up sitting around in someone’s basement rehashing everything again and again.

  What I’d give to go back to summer vacation.

  In answer to Jamie’s question, I give a non-committal grunt. I’m not sure I’m okay, but after talking to Coach Wasserman today, I’m feeling a little less… something. We’ll see.

  The two of us leave together, planning to go to our own lockers before maybe going to see who else is still around on school property. As soon as we pass the very first classroom on our right, three bodies crash into us, coming from inside the class.

  “Hey!” Jamie snaps as her phone tumbles to the floor, thankfully hitting the ground by way of a padded corner.

  In the chaos of everyone untangling themselves from each other and letting out a few carefully chosen curse words, it takes me a second to realize that Noah is one of the guys that just bumped into us. He, Joel and Tom are all half-heartedly apologizing, but, also kind of laughing at the situation. They're clearly in a much better mood than my own.

  Noah looks up at me, his smile falls away just a little. Feeling a little guilty, I force myself to smile at him not like before, but more friendly than I’d been letting myself be with anyone. Him mouth twitches up a little in response.

  “So, you girls have some free time now.” Joel says so loudly, that I suspect everyone left in the hallway can here him. My new-found smile disappears immediately.

  “Dude!’ Tom mutters while Noah tosses his head back in what I hope is frustration. “Don’t.”

  “Maybe you girls...” something about how he says the word girls has my back up at once, “...can do us a solid and take over some of our fundraising perk duties. You know, since you have all that time.”

  Actually surprised, I take a step back from the guys automatically. I hadn’t even thought about the fundraising perks we’d committed to since the big decision was announced. I guess someone, somewhere was smart enough to realize there was no way they could ask us to help out with those things anymore.

  Clearly, Joel is not quite that bright.

  “Excuse me?” I say, eyebrows raising slowly. One fist clenches at my side while the other tightens around my phone. “Why the hell would we do that!?”

  “Oh come on, Donovan. It’ll be good for you, keep you in shape for next season. Though you probably want to throw in a few practices as well, since clearly the faculty didn’t think you guys could cut it this year.”

  My head cocks to the side as I try to figure out what it is Joel is trying to say. Is he just being a dick for the sake of it? Probably.

  Noah places his hand on Joel’s shoulder and pulls him back a little. “Not now. We’ve got to get going.”

  Joel gives me one more look, clearly enjoying something he sees in my expression. “Yeah. Good point. Practice. You know how it is, Donovan? Oh right, you really don’t.” Joel cackles like he’s just said the funniest thing in the world. No one else even responds.

  I let Jamie lead me away, purposefully heading in the opposite direction of where the guys are going—toward the back of the school and the soccer field.

  Okay, so maybe I’m not actually feeling better after all.

  Chapter 20

  By the time I get home, I’m struggling to calm a whirlwind of emotions. A big part of me wants to go back to school and demand something from Joel. I don't know what, but if our friends hadn't separated us, I feel like there was something far bigger coming from that little jackass.

  I just had this feeling like there was something more he wanted to say.

  Then, there's the way that Noah was looking at me, or even that he was looking at me at all. Did I write all of that off too quickly?

  If nothing else, Noah was someone I liked hanging out with before any of this happened. Maybe we can get back to that place.

  Except, I already know that if we do that I'll want to take it even farther.

  I'm still not allowed.

  Molly runs up to greet me as I come in the door, abandoning my sisters in the kitchen. I can hear all three of them talking from the other end of the hallway, probably eating whatever snack Dad has prepared for us.

  As I scoop Molly up into my arms and move toward the smell of whatever's cooking, something new dawns on me.

  Okay, so I've already got Molly, but when our parents agreed to for us to have her, they made me promise to give up dating for the semester because they thought I had too much on my plate. I had volunteering, and I had soccer.

  Now those things are gone.

  I looked down at the tiny, furry face nuzzled up against my shoulder as she chews on a stray strand of my hair. I already know that there's no way my parents would ever make us give her up. Even taking me out of things entirely, it wouldn't be fair to everyone else to abandon a dog we all love because I screwed up.

  It's not even like I'm considering going back on my word. Just considering that there might be room for some renegotiation here. My mom loves anything negotiation related. For as long as I can remember, she's been encouraging my sisters and I to talk through any argument we’re trying to make, giving reasons for whatever it is we're trying to convince them to let us do. It doesn't always work, but it's usually a good place to start if I'm trying to talk her into something.

  I set Molly down and sit by the kitchen table, grabbing a handful of grapes as I move, popping each one into my mouth before crunching it between my teeth. Riley appraises me from across the table before tilting her head to ask if I'm okay. I'm not sure what it is she is seeing on my face, either my confrontation with Joel, or my piqued curiosity at the possibility of being allowed to date again sooner than I thought. I wave her off before snatching a banana from the bowl in the center of the table.

  As usual, I'm starving.

  Later that night, I'm in my bedroom, finally answering some texts and listening intently for the sound of the front door.

  I'm up the second I hear Mom get home, hovering impatiently around on the second floor landing, letting her get settled in before I pounce. She's never been a big fan of us throwing things at her soon as she gets in the door, but there's only so long I can wait.

  I should probably figure out where dad is. I don't have to wait long, I'm saved from having to figure out where my dad is when I hear his voice mingle with my mother's in the living room, as soon as she steps inside. I can't quite make out everything they're saying, but it sounds like more than just casual hellos after the day at the office.

  I can't wait any longer.

  I practically rush down the stairs, almost stumbling on the final step before I slide into the hallway and through the living room door.

  Dad looks up as soon as I come in, Mom’s still answering emails on her phone. "Good." Dad says. "Just the daughter we wanted to see."

  I give my biggest smile, wondering what it is they want while also trying to figure out how best to broach the subject I want to talk about.

  "How are you?" Dad asks. At the same time, my mom puts down her phone on the coffee table and looks at me.

  Okay, I guess I'm going first. "I'm good." I say, trying to sound like I mean it. If they say yes to what I'm about to ask, maybe I can be good again soon.

  I haven't exactly missed dating, I’ve barely had time to think about it. It could be a pretty awesome distraction for me right now, I can already feel myself getting my hopes up. I do kind of think this is going to work. While I didn't give up either soccer or volunteering by choice, my schedule is more open now than it has been in months.

  "Actually I wanted to ask you guys something." I take a breath, and try to figure out how Rhiannon would phrase this. "I wanted to revisit our earlier discussion."

  "Oh?" Mom asks. I can't tell if she's amused or not, but there's definitely something she's not saying to me. Either way, I'll figure that out soon enough. For now, I just have to get this out and then see what I can make of it. "About
my not dating. The deal we made when we adopted Molly."

  "I remember it." mom says as dad makes a soft hmm from his chair. I guess they're not surprised that this is what I'm bringing up. It was probably only a matter of time. At least now, I have a solid argument to back me up.

  "Well, the reason you guys made the deal in the first place was that I was doing too much, right? With soccer and everything." I pause for a second, hoping the impact of my statement will be self-explanatory. Neither my parents say a word. Which isn’t super helpful. "You know, soccer...well...I don't have any commitments there anymore. Since I don't have any volunteering stuff now either… I have a lot more time."

  I hadn't quite spelled out what had happened between Kendra and I to any of my family members, being too embarrassed to admit I'd been all but fired, but I had said that I'd reached the volunteering requirement that Fairview High has a couple times over already. Kendra decided it would be more fair to let someone else have a try. Which isn't technically untrue.

  Still, no one says anything. Usually, I don't have to work this hard to get a debate going with my parents. They’re usually all too happy to jump into it with me or my sisters. Sometimes it feels like they enjoy arguing things just for the sake of it. Not tonight.

  I guess I'm going to have to be a little more specific this time.

  "I think..." I say, trying to sound businesslike and competent, "I think that I should be allowed to start seeing guys again, immediately."

  My mom waits only a second before responding. "I think you are all kinds of mistaken." Her tone is completely deadpan, her face losing any hint of humor. I know I walked into a trap somehow, but I still have no idea what it is. "I think you left out a very important part of the discussion we had at the end of the summer."

  I try to figure out what she's talking about, nothing comes to mind fast enough for me to act on it.