“You could be, you know,” I say, pushing a little to see if my suspicions might be correct. “I can keep a secret. Our parents wouldn’t have to know.”
“Sebastian!” she gasps, but the flush that started on her cheeks has crept over her chest. Her chocolate eyes are sparkling with mischief rather than anger.
“It’s not like we haven’t already done things we’re not supposed to, is it? I know it was dark in the closet, but my mind conjured up many images. Maybe it’s time I got to see if the images are anything close to reality.”
Before Ellie has a chance to reply, my dad lumbers into the kitchen like a grumpy, middle-aged cock block. It’s unusual for him to be around at this time. I guess the party and the copious amount of alcohol he consumed have made it harder for him to get out of bed. “Morning, son,” he says. His bleary eyes search the room for Colby and Micky. “Your brothers left already?”
“Yep. It’s like I have cooties or something,” I say.
“Or maybe they have more motivation,” dad replies, and for the millionth time in my life, he makes me feel like the lesser triplet.
“Sebastian has a whole lot of motivation,” Ellie says. “He’s acing his classes.” Glancing up in surprise, I wonder how the fuck she knows how I’m doing at school.
“Is that right?” dad says. Even with his ridiculous bed hair and his striped shorts tucked under his belly, he still manages to appear condescending.
“It is right.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.” Dad frowns at Ellie as she passes with her coffee in hand and gives me a sly smile. She sits on the opposite end of the table. Our eyes meet, and a jolt of electricity crackles between us. Reaching out, she grabs the corner of the piece of toast on my plate and snatches it, taking a big bite.
“Mmmm….” She rolls her eyes at the deliciousness of the thickly spread peanut butter. “How do you eat this and not put on any weight?”
“You should run drills with Coach,” I say. “I reckon I could eat a horse, and he’d still find a way to make me burn off the calories.”
“Colby has bulked up,” Dad says. “He’s focusing on eating clean and lean.”
“I don’t see any difference between them,” Ellie says, taking another bite. A little peanut butter lingers at the corner of her lips, and when her tongue darts out to lick it away, I follow the movement with a fascination that borders on the obscene. “Anyway, peanut butter is loaded with protein.”
Dad grunts, opening the door to the refrigerator and staring into its depths. I want to point out that he’s developed quite a gut over the past few years and could do with going clean and lean himself, but I don’t have that kind of relationship with him. He’s the kind of man that likes to deal out advice and criticism as thickly as I spread peanut butter but would hate to receive it in return.
Ellie reaches out to hand back my toast, and I take it, purposefully eating where she bit first, remembering the sweet taste of her mouth and the warmth of her skin against my tongue. Her eyebrows raise as I lick my lips with relish.
“Will you make it to our next game?” I ask my dad.
“Nope,” he says, closing the refrigerator. “Busy putting peanut butter on the table.” His eyes focus on the empty jar in front of me. He turns away to stare at the open door. “Lara. Will you come and make me some eggs?”
Out of sight, Ellie rolls her eyes. Her mom appears with her makeup and hair done to perfection, dressed in a bright purple yoga outfit. I don’t miss her pinched expression. “Of course, honey,” she says.
I guess I don’t really understand their relationship at all.
In two huge bites, I finish my toast and rise from the table. Watching Lara cook eggs while my father waits for them is too much for me to deal with so early in the morning. Plus, having dirty thoughts about Ellie with our parents around feels completely wrong.
All day, I contemplate my brother’s avoidance and Ellie’s cheerfulness. At training, I focus on my dad’s dismissiveness, which motivates me to push harder. In the locker room, my brothers are strangely quiet, and for the first time in a long time, we all drive home separately. Colby and Micky choose to eat dinner in their rooms, blaming assignments and late-night online study groups.
Ellie chats with her mom over the pot roast in a way that feels surprisingly bright and without the usual undercurrent of tension that is often detectable between them. In a way, Ellie’s relationship with her mom reminds me of my relationship with my dad. There is friction in place of affection, disappointment, and disapproval in place of pride. Ellie usually bristles in response, but she’s happy today, and her mom seems to go along with the mood.