Blocked (26 page)

“Why?” Dane shook his head.

Mom approached the table and placed her hand on Dane’s shoulder. “This is Dane’s house, so we’ll let him use his phone just this once.” She cupped my shoulder with her other hand. “Besides, I want to see this Josh character for myself.”

Chapter 16

T
HE
N
EXT
D
AY
, all I heard were my steady breaths and the thumping drumbeat of my favorite band as its music piped through my earbuds. I tucked in my chin and added a muscle-burning kick as I zoomed up a steep incline. “Attraction Infraction” was next on the playlist, and I wanted to crest the hill before that song, which always made me think of Lucia. Sadness and longing didn’t pair well with a get-it-out-of-your-system hard run.

When I neared the end of the metro park trail, I slowed to a walk, feeling alive and exhausted. My quad muscles quivered, and sweat poured down my spine. A few minutes later, my agents came up on either side of me. I yanked out my earbuds.

“Thanks for bringing me here—I needed that.”

A bead of sweat dripped from China’s chin as she nodded. “Thanks for asking us to drive you instead of engineering your own transportation.”

We shared a smirk.

“Can we…stop a second?” Brad gasped for air, and I came to a halt on the dirt path. His drenched T-shirt stretched across his sprawling chest, and gym shorts squeezed his sizeable thighs. He’d started the run ahead of me but had fallen behind in the first mile.

“C’mon, Brad, how will you keep up with assassins if you can’t keep up with me?”

He continued breathing hard. “I doubt assassins…have the stamina of…a scholarship athlete.”

“That
was
a punishing pace, Dane.” China’s eyes flared with excitement, and I knew she thrived on tough workouts just like I did.

“Well, I had to make up for missing practice this morning.” As soon as I spoke, the reality of my suspension hit me, and with it came the deflation of my positive mood. Maybe “punishing” was an apt description for this run…punishing myself for my stupidity yesterday.

“
I have to start facing my problems, instead of avoiding them
,” Lucia had said last night. I grimaced. She was right. By the time I’d awoken from my beer bender, she’d already done just that by eating breakfast and leaving for weights. I assumed her mother and brother had flown back to Texas.

On the ride back to the greenhouse, I glanced at my phone to find more missed calls from my mother. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest until we made it home. Then, after a shower, I clenched my teeth and called Mom from my bedroom. To my surprise, I didn’t have to go through Steve this time.

“Oh,
Dane
,” my mom said, and the concern in her voice made me want to cry. “Thank you for finally calling back, honey.”

“Sorry.” I took a deep breath. “How’s the campaign?”

“We’re not talking about me. How are
you
doing?”

I swallowed. “I might…I might get kicked off the team.” I hated the hitch in my voice.

“That would be devastating. I hope your coach can appreciate the pressure you’re under.”

“I think he does, but that’s no excuse for how I acted at practice. And that was
before
I got drunk on national TV.”

She paused. “There’s
more?
I’m almost afraid to ask what happened at practice.”

“I, uh…” She wasn’t going to be happy with me. “I kind of told Phil to fuck off.”

“Dane!”

I figured I might as well tell her everything—I knew she’d use her psychology techniques to drag it out of me anyway. “And I screwed myself even harder when I shoved Jason. Phil suspended me from the team.”

“Oh, Dane. So you took a crisis and made it worse.”

Basically
.

“This is why I kept calling you, to try to talk you down. Patrick told me you didn’t take his news well—”

The understatement of the year.

“—and we both know you have trouble with your temper.”

I closed my eyes as I slumped back in my desk chair. When would I learn some self-control? Mom had tried to help me over the years, but I still threw tantrums like a two-year-old. As a psychologist, she was probably embarrassed to call me her son.

“I don’t know why I’m lecturing you—that’s not going to help anything.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry, Dane.”

“Why are
you
sorry? I’m the one who messed up.”

“This is my fault. I’m the one who cajoled Patrick into speaking to you.”

I sighed. “I was going to find out some time.”

“If only I could’ve held onto him…made him love me…none of this would’ve happened—” Her voice broke, and I could hear her choke back a sob.

“
Mom
.” I clenched my fist. “What he did wasn’t your fault, not at all.
He’s
the asshole, not you.”

Her voice trembled. “They say an affair’s a sign of a problem in the marriage.” She sniffed. “I should have seen it. I should’ve done something about it.”

“
He
should’ve supported you more. You’re the most powerful senator in our country, and he can’t handle it.”

“Well, Patrick is in a tough spot. It’s not easy being married to a successful woman.”

My lips parted. “You’re
defending
him?”

“No! I…” She exhaled. “I’m just so sorry about how this is affecting you. Patrick promised not to make his relationship public until after the November election, and that’s a long time for you to hold onto this. I know how destructive secrets can be.”

I was quiet for a moment. “How could you tell him, Mom?”

“Tell him what?”

“About last year…about Nina.”

“Oh!” She made a strangled noise. “I’m so sorry. Please believe me, I didn’t mean to tell him. Patrick was just acting so smug, like his absence in your and Jessie’s lives was no big deal, and I let it slip about the pregnancy…maybe I was trying to show him you do indeed need him in your life—”

“I
don’t
need him!”

“Honey…everyone needs a father figure.”

“Phil’s been a better father to me than Dad ever was.” And I’d gone and destroyed that relationship, too.
Good job, dickwad
.

When a rustling occurred in the background, I noticed the substantial uninterrupted length of our conversation—a first since she’d started campaigning. I was probably making her late to something. “Don’t you need to give a speech, tape an interview somewhere?”

“I cancelled my appearances today. I was just about to get on a plane to come see you since you weren’t answering my calls.”

“Mom, you don’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but you deserve some TLC. I want to be there for you.” She sighed. “I’m so wrapped up in this stupid presidential race that I’m neglecting you and your sister. Maybe…maybe I should drop out.”

“No! You
are
there for me. I always remember what you taught me, especially if I’m having an emotional freak-out, and I know you’d be here more if you could. But Mom, you’re doing something incredible right now—you’re gunning to become the first female president of the United States. That’s amazing! That’s historic. Of course you won’t be around for the next couple of months.”

“I’m not acting like a good mother.”

I realized how alone she must feel. My dad had abandoned her, and Jessica was a self-absorbed teenager, which left me to support her. “Jess and I will be fine. We will.”

“I wish you could have a normal college experience. I wish you could go out there and make mistakes without ending up on the national news because of me and my campaign.”

I winced as the van video replayed in my head. “I brought that one on myself.”
Jackhole
. “Look, Lucia’s dealing with the pressure too, and I don’t hear
her
dad planning to drop out of the race. I don’t hear him feeling guilty for how this affects his kids.”

“He’s not a mother. He’s not the primary caregiver, so what would he know?” As she spoke, her voice grew stronger, capturing a hint of that competitive spirit I knew so well. The competitive spirit I’d inherited from her. “I do not like that man. He’d ruin this country if he got the chance. But poor Mrs. Ramirez—she’s probably so worried about her daughter. All the sexism and objectification of women in this patriarchal society…no wonder Lucia’s struggling with body image.”

“
Señora
Ramirez came to the house last night.”

“She did?” Mom paused, and I thought I detected a twinge of guilt in her voice. She probably felt badly she hadn’t visited me this year. “What did you think of her?”

“Loud—she talks nonstop.” I grinned. “Lucia calls her ‘Hurricane Silvia.’”

Mom chuckled. “I guess I’ll see the hurricane at the last debate in October.”

I’d forgotten about the last debate. Mom had told me to focus on my classes instead of attending the first two. But both our families would be there for this one, and I wondered what it would be like to meet Lucia’s dad. Would I hate him as much as I predicted? Would he hate me? He probably would, particularly if he knew how much I lusted after his daughter. But it was a no-brainer that Mom would love Lucia. Her beauty lit up a room.

“Thank you for the pep talk, Dane. Thank you for being you. I’m so proud you’re my son.”

I gripped the phone tighter. Though I’d shooed her away, the truth was I did want my mom to visit. I missed her. And I abhorred hearing such a strong woman doubt herself because of her shithead husband.

“Your father and I disagree on many things, but we both know how much you love volleyball. You belong out there, leading the team. Is there any way to make this right with your coach?”

“Phil hasn’t called me yet.”

“Then you call him.”

I blew out a breath. “He doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“Dane, don’t mind-read. You don’t know that—all the evidence I’ve heard suggests Phil likes you. You’re letting your feelings for your father get in the way of your relationship with your coach.”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me, Mom.”

“Sorry. Listen, you probably have to get to class, so I’ll let you go. Please call if you want to talk more about the situation with your father, or…anything. I’m here, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Danish.”

My cheeks warmed. “Love you, Mom.”

I checked my watch after I hung up, and she was right that I needed to leave for class soon. After staring at my phone for too long, I typed a text to Phil:

I screwed up big time, and I want to apologize.
Can I meet you before practice?

After class, I clenched my teeth as I knocked on Phil’s door.
Here we go
. The door swung open, and I faced my assistant coach. “Uh, hey, Jason.”