Within the Lines

28.

The iconic 'we need to talk' line was never followed up by something good, especially not when uttered by parents who had just caught their kids being in a secret relationship.

Today was no exception.

Atticus didn't end up having a panic attack. He calmed down in the study, with Chiara talking to him. I couldn't hear what they said from the hallway, and it didn't feel right to intrude, so I didn't.

Dad was clueless in the kitchen, asking what all the commotion was about. Thankfully, I could convince him to not get involved yet because any more stimulation and questions would probably be bad.

Fifteen minutes later, however, Chiara asked both Dad and I to join them in the study.

"What's this about, Chiara?" Dad asked. "We'll miss our flight if we don't go."

Chiara smiled apologetically to Dad. "Sorry, this shouldn't wait. But I'm sure it won't be long. Please, sit."

Grumbling, Dad took a free seat in the study and waited for Chiara to speak. Atticus stared down at his hands.

"It seems Atticus and Kade have a little something special between them," Chiara said, and I cringed at the way she decided to phrase it. It was very Chiara, but it was also very embarrassing.

"...Huh?" Dad said.

"Datin'," I bluntly stated because else he wouldn't get it and I didn't want to pull the bandaid slowly and prolong our suffering any longer than necessary. "We were datin' but we no longer are now."

"... Huh?" Dad repeated, staring at me like I'd grown three heads. "You and Atticus?"

"Yeah," Atticus mumbled.

Chiara's eyebrows furrowed. She shot us a sad smile. "Listen, honey, you two are just two boys who happen to also like boys and met a short while ago. You can't stop feelings like that, but you know it's not going to be easiest if you pursue this."

"That's why we broke it off," I said.

"I know," Chiara replied.

She looked sad and worried, more than angry, and that was a relief.

Dad, who'd been quiet so far, cleared his throat. "That's what the panic on the field is comin' from Atticus?" he asked.

Atticus nodded without looking up.

Dad sighed deeply. "Alright, I'll be the bad guy here then. You need to think about your football scholarships, too, Atticus. If this... causes you stress, then maybe now isn't the time. You're dreamin' of a good school, but they won't take you if you don't perform when the scouts come."

I waited for more. I waited for Dad to express his disapproval of the idea of us going out in the first place, but that didn't come.

"Think about it," was all Dad said.

"And be safe, please," Chiara added, squeezing Atticus' hand.

While I could tell Dad and Chiara both hesitated whether they should leave us, about fifteen minutes later, after some lighthearted, unrelated chit-chatting and making sure we were both okay, Chiara and Dad left the house to catch their flight.

Atticus and I were left standing on the driveway as the car exited the street.

I breathed out audibly and glanced at Atticus. "Well, that was less bad than I'd expected it to be. Are you okay?"

Atticus' jaw twitched, and he averted his gaze.

"Yeah," he said. "You?"

"Yes," I said. "And... My offer still stands. If you want to talk, you know where to find me."

Those were the last real words we spoke to each other that weekend. I wanted to give Atticus some time and space to get his probably scrambled mind unscrambled. Much as Dad insisted he was the 'bad guy' by reminding us of football, he was right. I would never want to sabotage Atticus' scholarships in any way. So, I waited patiently for him to come to me if he wanted to.

Again, we were back to how things were in the beginning: barely talking and not really daring to in front of people, anyway. But as we went back to school on Monday and the days passed, I noticed Atticus's posture slump further every time I saw him.

It was incredibly hard to keep my distance as promised. A week passed and my Mom informed me she'd arrive at the hotel tomorrow. I was welcome to join her there, and the thought of no longer sharing a floor with Atticus finally made me I suck into the back of the stands at a football practice. Just to check if things were going okay with Atticus at practice, at least.

Even without the teenage wannabe-professional commentators in the stands, I could tell Atticus wasn't at his best. Atticus was letting the opposing quarterback fool him into following him to the side, while another player freed a path on the other side.

My eyes followed Atticus. I couldn't see his expression from all the way in the back but I could imagine. I'd never imagined a football jock two heads taller than me and with more muscles than Popeye on a spinach high, could look so defeated.

I didn't want to look at it anymore, so I turned to leave, only to find Becky stepping outside the school building and coming my way in the distance. I could use the company and a nice chat right now, so I walked her way to meet her halfway.

Becky's brow immediately furrowed with concern when she saw me, so my bad mood had to show quite clearly on my face, even if I tried to hide it.

"You don't look good, Kade. Are you okay?" she asked the moment I was in earshot.

I sighed. "No, not really," I replied honestly. "Can we walk together for a bit? Talk to me. Get my mind off of things?"

"Of course." Becky gestured me to walk with her. She looked at the fields and bit her lip. "Okay, but I'd feel bad if I didn't tell you something I heard in school today. Sorry beforehand, but people are saying things about you and Atticus."

I felt my blood run cold. "What?" I asked, already regretting I asked when Becky flinched.

"First of all: you should know I don't believe them," she said. "The rumours."

"But?"

Becky leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Of course, Mandy says she thinks things aren't going well between Coach Turner and his wife. You and Atticus both walk around school moping and there have to be problems at home."

I let out a startled chuckle. "What? No. Things between my dad and Chiara are goin' a lot better than I'd expected them to go. There's nothing wrong at home. Honestly."

"Okay, I believe you," Becky said. "That's not the worst part of the rumour, though."

I pressed a hand to my forehead, a sense of dread filling my stomach because I knew how imaginative people could become and how rumours became weirder as they spread. "Well, fuck me, what's the worst part?"

"That Pinewood is going to lose the next game because of it."

I gaped. "What?"

Becky uncomfortably shifted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, like she felt really bad for what she was saying, but she still went on. "I wasn't there, but some guys said the football team isn't working together as well as usual because Atticus isn't performing,"

Guilt etched on Becky's face, even if it wasn't her fault. "Kade, I even heard people hoping that if Atticus' performance stays as weak as it was last game, he won't be allowed to play the next game. He'd be getting benched."