Ch. 2: The Way That We Used To

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Theo's dad drove an SUV so the car was easily able to hold both our hockey bags plus the sticks with ease. His parents sat up front, while we sat in the second row, Theo behind his dad and me behind his mom. Theo seemed to visibly relax once we were all in the car and started driving. He connected his phone to the car's Bluetooth and started a playlist. The first song to come up was "Younger" by Ruel.

I could only hope that the earlier awkwardness was because he didn't want any of his teammates, other parents, or lingering classmates catching him carpooling with the enemy. However, doubt remained in my head telling me that I was the cause of his discomfort, not the situation.

Theo's parents started talking about the game. Mr. Broussard brought up my check against his son, calling his son a "fragile boy" in the process.

"Dad, oh my god! Stop!" Theo hissed in a tone that I use with my own father whenever he does something completely embarrassing.

"I know it was cheap Mr. Broussard, but I knew for sure Theo would've scored if I hadn't done something and he's so quick that throwing an elbow was the only thing to do," I reasoned. Theo appeared shocked when I complimented his playing so profusely.

"Is that what happened on that Francisco kid's second touchdown against us in the fall?" Mr. Broussard asked, pointedly, referring to a block I made on my running back's game-winning touchdown during the rivalry game against Pine Brook last October, which was a borderline block-in-the-back, but went uncalled.

"What can I say? I'm usually the one to do the dirty work," I said with feigned innocence that adults usually found endearing and a chuckle. Theo huffed, at what I assumed was his father's continuing attempts at banter. I caught him eyeing his mother through the rearview mirror and an understanding passed between them.

"Referees never seem to call you on it, do they?" Mr. Broussard could best be described as wiry, but he still held a formidable disposition. This would be the first time we interacted since I've been able to recognize the feelings I have towards his son, so this made things especially awkward on my end. I hope for my sake he cannot decipher my feelings so easily.

"Refs love me. A little extra good ole fashioned charm goes a long way with 'em."

Mrs. Broussard interjected before her husband could continue. "How long's it been, Charlie? I feel like I haven't spoken to you in forever."

"It has been a while, Mrs. B. But, my mom tells me you two still go to Maggie's Garden on occasion." Maggie's Garden was a local wine bar that was a favorite among a certain strand of suburban moms in town.

"We do have fun, that's for sure."

"I can tell by the state she comes back in after uber-ing home."

"Well, I'm sure I'm much worse. I really have never gotten used to American wines." Mrs. Broussard then turned to her husband and the two began chatting more about wine, comparing and contrasting American and French varieties. I had noticed Theo chuckled during that last bit of conversation.

"Does your mom really get that drunk?" Theo asked in a hushed voice so are to keep the conversation between us, leaning closer to me, across the middle section of the row.

"Yep, like a Real Housewife."

"I think my mom was just saying she did too to be polite."

"Oh, I'm sure that's true. I didn't hurt you or anything on that check, did I?"

"Nah, man, you're good. You made the right play," Theo said playfully, "I definitely would have scored." It was soothing to know we were able to converse like this, still.

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