Page 111 of Taking Sides

“Did something happen at home?” I don’t know much about his parents except that I’ve never met them. That isn’t totally abnormal. There are some overly involved parents, the ones who want to talk about why their kid isn’t playing more or offer advice on coaching, but the majority show up for games and drop off and pick up and that’s pretty much it.

Landon gives me another nod.

I am so far out of my depth here. I need to call Grady and probably the school counselor, but most importantly, I want to put him at ease and make sure he’s okay. If he runs off now, where will he go? At least while he’s with me I can make sure he’s safe.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” I ask.

His brows tug together in confusion.

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t think straight until I eat in the morning. How about we get something to eat and then if you feel up to it, you can tell me what’s going on?”

He considers it, glancing away again.

“Landon, I can’t leave you here,” I say softly.

He looks ashamed for reasons I can’t comprehend but it breaks my heart all the same.

“Okay.”

TWENTY-NINE

I smile at Landon as he shovels in another large bite of pancake.

“Good, right?” I ask, hoping to ease the tension. “They’re my favorite pancakes in the city.”

His answer is to cut another huge piece. I glance past him to the front doors of the restaurant.

Whitney went outside to intercept Grady in the parking lot so she could talk to him. I don’t know how much more she knows than I do, but when she reappeared from the school with a rumpled-looking Landon and said he was coming to breakfast with us, I got the gist that something was amiss. Her eyes pleaded with me for it to be okay. As if I could say no to her, let alone a kid who is clearly in some sort of trouble.

I gather from the small conversation between them that Landon slept at the school last night, but that’s about all I know. Well, that and he’s eating like he hasn’t in days. My stomach churns and my own breakfast threatens to come back up. Fuck, what if he hasn’t eaten in days?

Whitney already asked him if there was anyone we could call for him, but he shook his head and glanced away. Neither of us pressed.

I think about my own parents and how if I’d gone missing overnight, they’d be frantic. My mom still checks in every few days if I haven’t called her first. Speaking of which, I haven’t answered her last “are you bringing Whitney home with you for your dad’s fiftieth birthday?” text. Clearly, she’s hoping I don’t screw it up with the first woman I’ve ever brought home. Ditto.

“I’m sorry about the stick.” Landon’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“What stick?”

“The hockey sticks that you and D-Low sent to the team. I accidentally left mine in the living room at the house and Taylor broke it.”

“Who is Taylor?”

“Another kid in foster care at Jenny and John’s house.”

My chest aches. I rub two fingers over the spot as I give him a reassuring smile all the while this new information hits me like a ton of bricks. “It’s no big deal.”

His stare is blank and hard to read, but his words continue to gut me. “It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever owned.”

I’m grateful when Grady and Whitney appear beside us because I don’t know what the fuck else to say right now.

“Landon,” Grady says, voice warm and friendly.

The kid sits straighter and swallows down the bite of food in his mouth. “Hey, Coach.”

His presence has the kid on edge, but he doesn’t look away even as Grady takes a seat beside him. Whitney drops into the space next to me and I push my leg against hers, seeking any sort of comfort.

“I understand from what Coach Whitney’s told me that things aren’t going great at home.” Grady wastes no time broaching the subject.