Part 17 (1/2)

”We're all out back.” Jared flashed that grin at me. ”And free. Free, I tell you!”

Rachel laughed and slid her hand into his as I followed them through the house. On the porch, Mr. Parker manned the grill while Tom helped. And when I say helped, I basically mean repet.i.tively flipping hamburgers that were still raw.

On the lawn, Justin and Luke tossed a ball back and forth, shouting for Tom to actually cook something.

”Hey! Your date's here.” Jared slid a glance at me before finis.h.i.+ng his declaration, ”Justin.”

Justin waved absently as he dove for a ball too far out of reach and dashed to get it before Luke could throw another one his way. Luke scowled at me. No surprise there.

But it was Tom who made me feel welcome.

”Amy!” I'd never heard my name sound so enthusiastic as he threw himself at me and wrapped his skinny, little arms around my waist. ”Guess what I've been doing?”

”What's that, bud?” I cringed at the nickname Luke used for him.

”I've been running.” His grin sculpted his face, full and a tad bit lopsided. ”I can get four mailboxes before it gets hard. And then I count three more steps. Just like you do.”

”That's great Tom. All you have to do is up your distance a little once in a while and you'll be running 5Ks in no time.”

”Want to run down there with me?” He looked so excited, I considered kicking my shoes off and doing it in my bare feet.

”Thomas, she's a guest and not dressed for running.”

Everyone's gaze fell to my flip-flops, but it was Luke's I felt. I thought my legs were on fire from him scowling at them.

I glanced down at the outfit Rachel had put me in before letting me out the door. Every st.i.tch of visible clothing was hers. Miniskirt, baby tee, matching flip-flops.

And Luke was still scowling at my legs.

”What?” I was finding I could scowl too.

”I've never seen you in a skirt before.”

”It would be stupid to wear this to tryouts.”

”Most girls would.” He stepped up on the deck and stared down at me. His eyes taking in the things I was hiding-the things I didn't even know I was hiding-his voice coming low in my ear as he leaned in my direction. ”So, just how many guys are you dating now?”

”You know Jared was kidding.” I angled my head enough to face him. ”How many girls are you expecting to run away from home to be with you this weekend?”

He shook his head and bounded down the stairs, back to the game that made slightly more sense than my life at the moment.

Rachel s.h.i.+fted her sungla.s.ses from specs to headband, her hair adjusting and flowing around it perfectly. ”Maybe he and Chris aren't the ones who need to work on getting along.”

I sat in the lawn chair next to her, trying not to roll my eyes as she clapped when Jared caught the ball. ”He's aiming for a baseball scholars.h.i.+p. That was not cheer worthy.”

”It is if you're dating him.” Rachel's expression was so serious that I wondered if I had crossed a line I'd never seen. ”You know, Amy. You bend over backwards for Chris, playing by his rules and puffing him up. If Jared treated me like Chris treats you, I'd tell him to take a hike and run over his cell phone to make sure he couldn't retrieve my number. There's no way he'd be getting smiles, let alone cheers.”

This time I did roll my eyes. ”Rachel, you've been dating him for...” I consulted my watch. ”Twenty-six hours give or take thirty minutes, depending on if we're counting from when he slid into the booth or when he told the sales guy you were his girlfriend.”

”Not the point. You may not know immediately if someone's going to treat you well, but sometimes you know pretty quickly if he treats you poorly.”

I sat there for another moment, waiting to see if she'd expound, but knew where she was going from experience. When she turned her attention back to the guys playing ball, I brushed off the skirt and joined Thomas sitting on the stairs.

”Why aren't you playing?”

”It still makes them nervous, you know... that I'll stop breathing.”

He looked so grown up for a moment, so old and tired, that it just about broke my heart.

”How long's it been since the last time you stopped breathing?”

The childishness flashed again in a bright smile. ”Almost a year.”

Tom glanced at the guys on the lawn playing rough and tumble, a deep martyrless sigh slipping past his lips. ”I know it scared them, so you know, I don't even ask to play.”

If this is what it was like to be part of a big family, this heartbreaking, heart-growing feeling, I'd had no idea what I'd been missing all those years.

”You know, you and I could kick the ball back and forth. I'm not as good as the guys, but I won't tackle you and scare them.”

”I'll get a ball!”

Before I could kick off my shoes, he was in the house and yelling for his mom to find an extra ball. That might be hard since the weird game the guys were already playing seemed to involve five b.a.l.l.s that were used for kicking, carrying, and tossing. Not to mention bombarding each other with. I watched them while he was inside-trying to decipher the rules-and learned something fairly quickly.

There were none.

Or, none anyone outside the Parker man-clan could decipher. The turmoil continued with the guys shouting scores and rules broken, calling for replays and do-overs. They generally seemed to be in agreement except for the typical male-induced scuffle that went with the trash talking you saw in any sport.

”I'm ready.”

At the door, Tom stood with a football, a soccer ball, two mitts and a baseball.

I couldn't have even held them all at once, let alone do a catch-throw thing. ”You know we can't use those all at once, right?”

He glanced toward where his brothers played their convoluted game, and asked, ”Really?”

”Yeah. Sorry. That's a boy game. Girls play one game at a time.” When his face fell, I added, ”So do athletes. I mean, you don't see Michael Phelps playing frisbee while he swims, right? It's all about the focus. Like running.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. ”Yeah, those guys have no focus.”

”Want to join us?” he asked Rachel, using those Parker-mama manners.

”No thanks. I'm more of a sidelines girl than an actual team member. But I'll definitely cheer you on.”

Tom looked up at me and grinned. ”She's going to cheer us on. How cool is that?”

It was very cool-for the first ten minutes. And then the very cool cheering turned into cheering Tom and mocking me.

Little by little, the brothers drifted our way. Their game merged in and around us until they swept Tom up in it, playing more carefully but making sure to involve him.

Trying to suck me in too, Justin threw me one of the footb.a.l.l.s and shouted, ”Blue line two. Four points! Four points!”