After the Game(15)

And this town.

Bryony had taken a liking to Brady. That wasn’t unusual, though. She liked just about everyone. Still, hearing her tell him bye today had struck a chord with me. Could I be friends with him? Did he actually want that? Did I actually want that?

“How are things at home? Is your grandmother okay after this morning’s excitement?” Brady’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I blinked several times to get out of the trance I had been in, then turned my head back to look up at him. “She’s good,” I replied, not realizing Brady had walked up to the bench I was sitting on.

He glanced over at the slide where Bryony was playing. “I think she enjoyed the outing this morning, at least.”

She had. Bryony had seen it as one big adventure. “It was a game of hide-and-seek for her,” I agreed.

He shifted his feet, and the awkward silence that fell made me once again question what he was doing here. Had he come looking for me? It was after school, but I assumed he would have practice.

“So are you coming to the game Friday night?” he asked.

Was he an idiot? “Um, no,” I said. “You do remember who I am, right?”

He sighed and tucked his hands in his pockets. “It’s been two years. Things have changed at the Lawton house.”

I’d heard about those changes. At least what the rest of the town knew. I was sure Brady probably knew a lot more. The little I had heard talk about, Gunner was living in that big house alone. The owner. He’d inherited it all, and his dad had left town. I wasn’t sure where his mother was.

“Trust me, two years means nothing in this town,” I told him.

He didn’t respond right away, and I figured he knew I was right. It was how small towns worked. There was always a villain everyone was against. I was that person. The teenage girl who’d had a child at fifteen, hated because she’d simply told the truth.

“Maybe if you got out more and tried,” he suggested.

I just laughed. “Tried what exactly?” I had been hated by these people. They still turned their heads when I walked by them and acted as if they didn’t know me. Then there were the ones who looked at me with disgust or, even worse, pity. I didn’t want their self-righteous pity.

He didn’t have an answer for that. In the end he nodded. “Guess you’re right.” Then he waved at Bryony, who had noticed him, before saying, “See you around.” I watched him leave, and a part of me wished his suggestion were possible. Which was stupid, I knew. I had decided long ago I didn’t care what this town thought of me.

However, I missed having a friend my age. Brady had reminded me of that. His coming around was nice. But forgetting how he had turned on me was difficult. It made things complicated. Just because his charming smile and disregard for what people thought was endearing didn’t mean I could start trusting him.

Two years ago . . .

Spend-the-night parties at Ivy’s always ended this way. Kimmie would call boys, they’d come over, Serena and Kimmie would sneak out, and Ivy would go crying to her parents. Why I continued to come to these things, I didn’t know. Gunner had laughed at me when I told him I was going to this one tonight. His prediction that I wouldn’t stay may have been spot-on.

Ivy came back to her room sniffling while Naomi and Hillary looked nervously at each other. We were never sure what to expect with Ivy’s theatrics.

“Mom said y’all can stay. She’s calling their parents, though. They’ll never get invited here again.”

We all sat silently, but we knew that wasn’t the truth. Ivy wanted to be friends with Serena. She craved the popularity that came with being attached to Serena. I, for one, didn’t think it was so grand to be popular just because you had a certain reputation among guys. But Ivy apparently didn’t get that.

“I’m sorry, Ivy,” Hillary said, walking over to her to hug her. She was acting like her dog had just died. Seriously? We had these parties about once a month, and every time we did, those two ran off with boys. Why were we acting like this was a surprise?

“They did this the last three times you’ve had one of these this year. Why don’t you just stop inviting them?” I said, rolling my eyes and lying back on the sleeping bag I’d brought with me. I was debating walking home and waking up my parents with ringing the doorbell. If they were going to baby Ivy all night over this, I would. We were going into the tenth grade in a week. It was time everyone acted like it.

“Don’t be mean, Riley,” Hillary scolded me. “Ivy tries to include everyone.”

That was such a hilarious lie I almost laughed out loud. Ivy most certainly didn’t deserve the Mother Teresa award. The only reason that Naomi had been invited this time was that she had started dating West Ashby last week. Ivy only invited people she thought were important. I had been friends with Ivy since preschool, and I knew Ivy didn’t include “everyone.”