Blindsided: A Sports Romance by Ava Kendrick Page B

grandma’s tonight? We’ll stay up late and eat ice cream from the carton and—”
    “Yes. Yes. Yes,” he says, jumping up and down. He holds his hand up in the air as if he’s still in class. “Grandma, can we watch Horrible Histories?”
    She smiles indulgently. “You want to watch that again? You must have seen them all a hundred times.”
    “One hundred and one,” he says triumphantly. “Can we start from the beginning again?”
    “Of course.” She pats his head and looks at me meaningfully. “Your mom is going to call Auntie Van and they’re going to have a big long chat about boring adult stuff. Go on, Sam. If you can beat me to the front door I’ll let you choose the ice cream flavor.”
    He frowns up at her. I can almost see the little cogs working in his mind to figure out if she’s trying to trick him. Seconds later, he’s bolted for the front door without even bothering to put his shoes on.
    “Thanks, Mom.” I get up to go find his sneakers. “Will you make sure he puts these on? I don’t want him stepping on glass or something.”
    “Yes, honey. Now. Do what I said. Call Van. She’s a smart cookie—I bet she can help you figure this out.”
    ***
    I walk back to the table and pick up my phone as soon as I’ve seen Mom out. I try Van’s cellphone first, but it goes straight to voicemail. It’s still early so I try her office next. Her assistant says she’s out at a client function. Crossing my fingers behind my back, I try her home number in the hope that she’s left early and gone home, which would be the most un-Van thing she has ever done. But I’m desperate—it’s worth a shot.
    I’m prepared to hear her answering machine message. What I’m not prepared for is Jackson’s media-trained voice.
    “Carter residence.”
    I suck in a breath and debate hanging up. But then I remember she has caller id. “Hi Jackson,” I say, as cheerily as I can.
    “Oh hey, Rose. How are you? Did you enjoy last night?”
    “Yeah, it was great,” I trill.
    “Oh.” He sounds confused. “Oh, that’s good. You didn’t seem to be having the best time. Look, Van is out. I’m not expecting her back until… oh… after nine probably. Can I pass her a message?”
    I swallow. “Um, no. It’s okay.” Even I can hear the way my voice falters.
    “Rose? Are you okay? You sound…”
    And then it happens. I find myself spilling my heart to a guy I don’t particularly like. And it feels strangely good—I don’t care about him, so unlike Mom or Van, I’m not afraid of worrying him. “No, Jackson. I’m not. I lost my job today. Fired. No payout, just the wages I’ve earned. That’s gonna net me less than five hundred bucks after taxes. I’ve got another five hundred in the bank. I’m fucked, Jackson. Fucked.”
    I take a breath. There’s no sound on the other end of the line. I don’t know what came over me just then, but it does feel like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.
    “Look, Jackson? I’m sorry for the information overload. Do me a favor? Don’t say anything to Van. I’d kinda prefer if she doesn’t know how worried I am.”
    “No problem,” he mutters. “No problem at all. I’m here if you need to talk.”
    “Thanks, Jackson.” I dial off, feeling like maybe I got my best friend’s boyfriend all wrong.
    ***
    I’m finally making progress on my resume when there’s a knock at the door. My heart races. Mom hasn’t called so it can only be Van. Great—I need her advice about how best to describe my job.
    I rush to the door and tear it open.
    “Thank god you’re he…” I frown. “Jackson?”
    He gives a little shrug. “Hi, Rose.”
    “I thought you were Van.”
    “No. She’s not home yet.”
    “Come in.” I step aside and let him pass. I don’t think we’ve ever socialized before without Van. “What’s up?”
    He crosses the room and eases himself down on the couch, carefully holding his pant legs to avoid creasing. A part of me wants to mock, but