“Thank you,” my father replies. “Married life is pretty great so far.” It’s a sweet sentiment, and it also makes me want to vomit.

“Did Saylor give you a full recap?” Sandra asks, curiosity burning bright in her voice as she glances between us, obviously trying to discern our relationship. I wish her luck because I’m unclear on it myself. He could have taken off, and yet he stayed to make small talk with my dad.

“Nope. I just heard a lot about the bridesmaid dress,” Beck responds.

I’m torn between wanting to strangle him and smile. He’s making things with Sandra and my dad a hundred times worse. My dad’s looking a bit curious now as well, but it’s almost worth it to see the lighthearted, joking side of Beck that has been glaringly absent from our last few interactions.

I intercede. “It was really nice of you guys to stop by, but I actually have practice, so…” The words remind me that half my team is watching this conversation take place.

“Yes, of course. We should get going.” My dad hovers for a moment, and then steps forward and gives me a hug. “I’ll call you, okay?”

“Okay,” I reply.

Sandra gives me a quick hug as well. They both say goodbye to Beck then head toward the car parked across the street.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell Beck.

“You met my parents,” he replies.

I nod. “I have to get to practice. I’ll be back in a coup—”

Beck cuts me off. “Can I come?”

“You want to come to my college soccer practice?”

Beck nods. “Um, I guess so.” We’ve had random spectators at practice before: parents, friends, siblings. Never any world-famous soccer phenoms. “Let me grab my gear and keys. That’s my car there.” I nod toward the black sedan parked in the driveway. Beck heads toward it as I hurry inside.

Anne, Cressida, and Emma are all standing just past the front door when I walk back in.

“Care to share anything?” Emma asks as I dart into the living room to grab my abandoned cleats and soccer bag. I quickly bend down to tie my right shoe’s laces and grab my car keys from the hook by the door.

“He just showed up.”

“Yes, that much I actually figured out for myself, Saylor,” Emma rolls her eyes. “I meant—”

“We’re going to be super late,” I interrupt. “I’ll see you guys there.”

“Wait, you’re driving yourself now?” Anne questions.

“Yeah, he wants to come.”

“Adler Beck is coming to our soccer practice?” Cressida shouts.

“Apparently.” I rush back outside before any of them have a chance to say anything else.

Beck is leaning against my car. “It’s unlocked,” I tell him as I toss my bag in the back.