Last Flight, page 17
“Gonna get those guys blocked next time, Harper?”
Leigh turned to see a few guys sitting at a table to their left. Most of them were smirking at Dean. Dean’s shoulders went tense, but he gave them a nod.
“I mean, we don’t want a repeat of history. So shouldn’t you be at practice instead of out with your girlfriend?” the same guy asked as the barista stepped up to take their order.
“Shouldn’t you?” Leigh asked before Dean could speak.
“What?” the guy demanded, looking confused. “I don’t play.”
“Oh.” Leigh drew the word out. “See, I thought you must know what you were talking about. My mistake.” She turned to the barista as the guy’s mouth dropped open. “Caramel macchiato and a large black coffee to go.”
Dean was biting his lower lip and clearly fighting a smile, but he didn’t say anything as they waited for their drinks. Once they were back outside, all he said was, “You kill me, you know that?”
She shrugged, taking a sip of her hot coffee to combat the chill of the wind. “Idiots should be told they’re idiots. Otherwise they get too confident. You did fine in the game, by the way.”
He glanced at her. “You watched?”
“I was working, but they were showing it. I caught parts between tables.”
“I missed a few things.”
“So did everyone else,” Leigh countered.
“But it’s me that they’re counting on.”
“You’re only one person on a team of...however many of you there are. I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”
“No, that’s everybody else,” he said dryly.
“It sucks, and they’re assholes.” She took another sip of coffee. “But you’ve got to get used to that if you’re going to play pro.”
“Since when are you my motivational coach?”
“I just can’t stand to see a man cry.”
Dean coughed on his sip of coffee. “Thanks, Everleigh.”
“I do what I can.” He hadn’t quite laughed, but there had been some light in his eyes again. It made her feel better.
“You know why I want to go pro?” he asked after a few moments.
“Money and women?” she teased.
“Obviously. I mean other than that,” he said, his tone growing serious.
Leigh turned to face him. He was looking out over the quad. His lower lip was between his teeth again and he looked like he was in deep thought. He got that look when he read things too. It, like most looks, was a good look for him. Get it together, Leigh. She shook herself out of her admiration and listened.
“I want to be able to give my mom enough money to do whatever the hell she wants. Up to and including leaving my dad.”
Okay. That was unexpected.
“My dad played baseball,” Dean went on. “He did pretty well, but then he tore his rotator cuff right before I was born and couldn’t pitch anymore. He ended up going to work for an insurance company. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. Playing baseball, I mean. Not selling insurance.”
Dean gave a humorless laugh and a shrug. “Thing is, I suck at baseball. Every position. I started messing around, playing football with some of the guys I knew from the Y. One day one of the coaches happened to see me. He asked if I could stay over a little and work with him. I did, and I ended up impressing him so much he went and talked to the old man. Dad finally caved and let me play. And ever since then, he hasn’t gotten off my fucking back about it. One slip. One bad game. That’s when he calls.”
“He doesn’t call when the games are good?”
Dean shook his head. “No.” He finished his coffee and tossed the cup into a nearby trashcan. “So, now that I’ve bored you with my pathetic life, why don’t you tell me something about your family? Is your dad a dick like mine?”
Leigh could see that he was desperate to change the subject, so she didn’t pursue it. “Sorry, but no. He’s pretty awesome.” After what she’d heard, she felt that owed Dean a little more than that though. “But he’s not my real dad.”
“Are your parents divorced?”
Leigh shook her head. “No. He’s not my step dad either. My mom...she had some addiction issues. The state took me away.” She cleared her throat. “They took me away a few times, actually. Mom tried, but she never could stay clean. The truth is...I don’t know who my biological dad is. And I haven’t seen my mom since 8th grade.”
“So this guy adopted you?”
Leigh could tell that Dean was shocked. She could also tell that he was trying hard not to act shocked. She appreciated it. She hated sympathy. It was what it was and it could have been worse.
“Fostered me,” Leigh corrected. “The adoption was never formal.” She shrugged. “I wish it had been, but it doesn’t matter now. Just because it’s not legal, doesn’t mean he’s not my dad.”
“So I guess that’s why this project means so much to you,” Dean said, looking down at her. That had been a hell of a story. He’d never have believed it if she hadn’t said it herself.
Leigh nodded. “I mean, I like to make good grades anyway,” she said honestly. “But yeah, this one has some personal meaning.”
“I guess I sound like I’m whining about my daddy issues,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets.
“You don’t have to go through foster care to have problems with your parents,” Leigh said firmly. “So, do you want to know why I was looking for you?”
“Yeah, sure.” Dean was slightly relieved at the change in subject. He’d never told anyone about the issues with his father and, while it was a relief in some ways, it felt strange in others.
“I had an idea to help round out the project. What if we interview a few former foster kids? Get their take on the services they’d like to see? Right now this is all pretty much from my perspective.”
“And the crap ton of research I’ve done,” Dean said indignantly.
Leigh patted him on the arm, feeling muscle move even through his thick coat. “Yes, you’re doing a great job,” she said in a patronizing tone. “Okay. My perspective and a bunch of industry professionals. But nothing from the kids who are currently living this. Seriously. What do you think?”
“It’d probably be a good idea,” he admitted. “Are we gonna have time to fit this into our schedule though?”
Leigh stopped in her tracks and clasped her hands over her heart dramatically, smiling from ear to ear. Dean stopped too.
“What?”
“I love it when you talk schedules to me!”
He laughed, slinging his arm around her shoulders once more. Her whole body heated up and she ducked her head so that he wouldn’t see her smile.
“Baby, I can talk schedules till you’re weak in the knees,” he promised, his voice going lower. “Planners, journals, free time versus work hour ratios....”
Leigh fanned her face theatrically. “Oh my. Ratios.”
“I aim to please.”
His arm was still around her. She noticed again how good he smelled. Her brain seemed to be spinning in circles.
Get a grip, Leigh!
“I can do most of the work on it,” she said matter of factly. “Getting in touch with people and getting interviews. You can help me compile it all.”
“Okay, sure.”
Dean let her go and she felt a lot colder suddenly.
“I’ll see you in a few days then,” he went on.
Was it her imagination or did he sound a little disappointed? She had to be going crazy. He had girls throwing themselves at him day in and day out. She nodded and they parted ways, both of them a little dissatisfied at the way the conversation had ended.
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