My Brother's Best Friend

Chapter 22

Cameron

"Ethan that's not fair!" I stomp my foot on the grass as he waves the popsicle he just stole from me right in front of my face. "Give it back!"

I go to reach for it, but he sticks his tongue out and runs away from me towards my pool. It's so hot out that the popsicle is dripping onto the grass, and I find myself becoming angrier the longer I can't have it.

"Mommy!" I whine, blinking away the tears as Ethan continues to taunt me from the other side of the pool. "Ethan stole my popsicle!"

She is busy talking to my Dad and Mary, and I stomp my foot again when they aren't paying attention.

"Honey, what's wrong?" My mom brushes my cheek, and I begin to feel slightly less upset.

"Ethan stole my popsicle," I repeat, and Mary lets out an irritated sigh.

"Ethan!" She hollers, watching as his dirty blonde hair continues to run in circles around the pool. "Get over here this instant!" Then she looks at Mary, her eyes softening. "I'm sorry," she says.

"It's just kids," my mom replies. "Don't apologize."

After a couple of seconds I feel a tap on my shoulder. Maddie, Ethan's little sister, is holding out a popsicle to me. She's in a little daisy blue dress, her stubby hands all sticky from the other two popsicles she's already had.

"You can have mine." Her tiny voice says, and she pushes her short blonde curls behind her ear.

I'm about to take it from her, but my dad pats me on the back and sinks down so that he's eye level with me. "Come with me." He grins, and I find a smile on my face almost immediately. He always knows how to fix things. "I think I know where we keep the stash."

***

What the hell is my Dad doing home?

I haven't seen him in months, and of course, the minute I decide to have Maddie spend the night he wants to appear magically. I want to be more upset, but truthfully he interrupted at a great time. I was caught up in the moment with Maddie, and I was about to say something I really don't think I meant. It was just because we were kissing and got carried away. That's it.

"Maddie, you need to go home," he states firmly, and I see in his hand he's holding a cake.

A cake?

She can't manage to say anything. Instead, she quickly nods her head and grabs her duffel bag from my carpet, exiting the room without another word.

When we're finally alone, he lets out a deep sigh and places the cake beside me on the bed. It's in the shape of a football, congratulations sprawled out in white frosting. "What the hell are you thinking?" he asks. "Maddie? That girl is way too young for you."

"She's only a year younger," I input, but quickly shut up when he sends me that look. The look I know not to mess with.

"Does Ethan know about this? How long has this even been going on for?"

I never thought my Dad would be the first one of our parents to find out about us, but here we are. I look at the cake, then back to him. "No, he doesn't know. Nobody does. It hasn't been long. Maybe about two weeks."

He's eyeing me with judgment, and it's making me so angry.

"But it's been like this between us for awhile now," I admit. "I've felt this way about her for years, but I never made a move until recently. It's new, but it isn't really if you think about it."

"Cameron, does it look like I care about any of that? Maddie isn't someone you should be dating, and you certainly shouldn't be keeping it a secret."

"What's wrong with Maddie?" I ask defensively.

"Nothing's wrong with her, but do you honestly think this will work out? Do you think when Ethan finds out, or Richard that they'll let this continue? Maddie is someone you've grown up with, son. This is going to end horribly, and if you really care about her then you should end it before it gets to be too serious."

I stare at him with a dumbfounded expression before I look at the cake again, then back to him. "What are you doing?" I ask, and he's caught off guard.

"What do you mean?" he replies. "I heard about your big game and wanted to surprise you, so I—"

"You think you can just come back after months of being gone and have everything just be okay?" I rise up from my bed and begin to pace back and forth, becoming angrier with each second that passes by. "You can't just waltz in here, give me a cake and then start giving me relationship advice, dad. You don't even know me anymore for crying out loud."

"Now Cameron..." he starts, but I immediately cut him off.

"No! After mom passed you completely walked out on me when I needed you the most. I've been miserable, and Mary and Richard have been more of parents to me than you have the past three years."

"Don't mention your mother." He wags a finger in my face, getting almost chest to chest with me. "I've had to work, Cameron. How I choose to deal with your mothers passing is on me. I get to decide how to heal, alright?"

"And that's leaving your only child alone to deal with it by himself? Why did you even come back this time?"

He scratches the back of his head as if he's searching for an answer, and that irritates me even more. "I always listen to the radio podcast of your games," he explains. "I heard how well you were doing and got so excited, so I took the first flight out and stopped at the store for the cake."

I look back at it again and try to blink the tears away.

"You're so close to getting a full ride, Cameron. I can feel it. You're so talented. I just don't want you to mess this all up for some girl, and—"

"So that's why you gave me the relationship advice." I nod sarcastically, anger coursing through me. "Great. Not because you actually care about my happiness, but because it's about football."

My dad is speechless as he stares at me, his chest rising rapidly up and down.

"I don't need your support from thousands of miles away," I shoot back. "I don't need a half-ass parent. If you're going to come back and stay for good then that's a different story, but I'm assuming you're leaving again, right?"

He can't answer because he knows I'm right. He'll stay for two days, give me more cash, and then he'll be gone for another two months. The same old story.

"You can keep the relationship advice, you can keep your football advice, and you can take your stupid ass cake back. I don't need it."

Picking up the cake from my bed, I toss it to the floor, watching as the frosting gets all smeared on the top, becoming ruined.

I'd rather not stay to have a lecture on what he thinks is good parenting, so I throw open my door and thud down the steps to head to my car.

I need to be anywhere but here right now.