Page 74 of End Game

“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Barrett agrees readily.

My dad laughs. “We’re talking about the Newton soccer team, right?”

I roll my eyes. “We’re not that bad.”

“Yeah, you kind of are,” my mom says. “Some games are harder to watch than others.”

Compared to some other teams I’ve been on over the years… okay, so maybe we haven’t won a single game all season. Maybe morale is hanging on by a splintering string. But they don’t have to call us out for it.

We make it through dinner all right. Barrett keeps his hands to himself, and I mostly focus on my steak and baked potato. The food is good. My parents maintain the conversation, chatting about our family and neighbors and asking Barrett about school. It feels so natural to have him here with us; I almost can’t imagine spending time with my parents without him here. Not for the first time, I’m incredibly grateful I decided to transfer home for this year. I didn’t realize how much I needed to be here until I got back, and now that I’m here, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

After dinner, we linger over drinks and dessert until the waiter starts pointedly clearing all of the tables around us. Barrett and I walk my parents back to their car before we start the walk into Athlete’s Village.

I’m kind of surprised when he wraps his arm around my shoulders again, hugging me against his side.

“Thanks for tonight, Dee,” he says.

“For what?”

“For sharing your family. For letting me hang out with you guys.”

“Of course.”

He clears his throat. “So. Tomorrow. Your game.”

“Yeah?”

“Then dinner with your parents again?”

“If you want to.”

“I do.”

“Then yeah, we’ll do it.”

“Great.”

I poke him in his side and he twitches.

“What about tonight?”

“What about it?” He tightens his grip on my shoulders.

“What party are we hitting up?”

“Actually, I’m kind of beat,” he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would you mind…”

“What?”

“Maybe we can just put on a movie and chill?”

My eyes go wide. “You want to Netflix and chill?”

That’s distinctly… couple-y. We’ve watched movies together, we’ve hung out. Coming from having dinner together with my parents, it feels different. Weighty.