“Me, too.” Before turning to leave, he says, “Look, we’ll be two of the first people called back, but I have no clue when, or if, that’ll happen, so you need to be ready for some changes, okay?” I nod. “Like this house,” he says, gazing around my room. “We might have to move.” I nod again. “And money. I mean, I know we’ve never had any, but now things will get really tight. Put in as many hours as you can before football starts. You’ll need the money during the season.”

I take a deep and confident breath and say, “What if I just don’t play football? That way I can work after school and help you two out even more.”

“Out of the question,” he says. “You’re a player, Zach.” He pauses. “Besides, football takes everybody’s mind off of reality.”

And I so want to argue with him and get all pissy right now, maybe even tell him what Coach Horton did to Mom and why Justin really quit football, but even I know this isn’t the ideal time to do that.

Then he says, “I talked with your brother. He’s agreed to hold off on that community college idea for another year and get a job.”

“What?”

“We need his help, Zach. I talked to a guy from the plant. He installs carpet on the side. He’s taking Justin on as an assistant. I think it’s the right step. Maybe Justin will learn something … for once.”

I look down, shake my head, and whisper, “The trap has sprung.”

“What was that?” Dad asks.

“Nothing,” I say, looking up. “It’s just that you can’t pull a Captain Rick installing carpet in Blaine.”

Silence.

“Yeah,” Dad says. “Good ol’ Captain Rick.” He draws hard on his cigarette and exhales a cloud of smoke. “He’s one of the lucky ones.”

He drops his cigarette butt into the beer can. The room is so quiet I can actually hear the fizzy sound of the lighted end landing in his backwash.

When he leaves the room I feel my cell vibrating against my hip.

It’s a text from Tank. Finally.

TANK: Wuts up w u & s?

My stomach drops. Not exactly the kind of message I was hoping for. Great.

ME: Nothing! WTH? RUOK?

TANK: Y is she asking about u?

She’s asking about me? Really? Cool.

ME: No clue. Maybe she loves me. JK

TANK: DPWM. Stay away from her or IKU

ME: Don’t even know her #. UR paranoid.

This is true, by the way. The thing about not knowing her number.

TANK: Hope so. L8R

End of chat.

I go to bed feeling like the biggest loser on the planet.

August

Chapter_17

17