He pats my shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It's your life and I want you to be happy."
"I want you to be happy too, Dad."
"Then do something you love. Find whatever's going to make you as happy as golf made me and do it. That's what'll make me happy."
"I want to own a golf course. I want to manage it."
He chuckles. "I kind of suspected that given your reaction when Birdie mentioned it at dinner the other night."
I turn to him. "What reaction? How you'd know?"
"I'm your father. I know you better than anyone. I've suspected for awhile that you didn't want to return to professional golf but I wasn't sure what it was you were interested in. I hadn't considered you having your own course but I think it's a good idea."
"It'll take time to save up enough money. The million I made in endorsements isn't even close to being enough, and a bank won't give me a loan that big."
"Which is why I'm willing to go in on the purchase with you."
"If you do, it's a loan. I'm paying you back."
"Okay, but no interest on the loan. Instead I want a free membership and no fees at the clubhouse."
I laugh. "It's a deal. I'll let the whole family golf for free."
We shake hands.
"I'm going to let you make the arrangements to tour whatever courses you're interested in," my dad says. "I want you taking the lead on this."
"I will. I'll see if I can set something up with the Scottsdale course next week."
"And you might want to consider getting a job at one of the courses to see how things are run."
"I've already looked into it. There's an opening at the course by my apartment. I just haven't applied yet."
"Apply when you get home, unless you don't think you can handle a job and school."
"I can handle it but I might need to quit the fraternity."
"Whatever you think is best." His phone dings and he checks it. "It's your mother. I told her I'd be home by now. She has dinner ready. Would you like to join us?"
"Is this another setup?" I ask as we get up from the grass.
"No." He laughs. "Although I don't think you minded that setup as much as you pretended to."
"What are you talking about? I was pissed."
"The way your face lit up when you saw Birdie there?" He smiles. "That wasn't anger. That was you pretending to be angry to cover up for the fact you were pleased to see her."
"Trust me. It was anger."
He stops at the car. "What's going on with you two?"
"Me and Birdie? Nothing. It's the same as always. She hates me and I hate her."
"You two seem to spend a lot of time together."
"Only because we have to. It's not like we want to. I see her at class and during her swim lesson. That's it. Oh, and now she's tutoring me in stats but that's only twice a week."
He's staring at me like he's trying to read my mind.
"Why are you looking at me that way?" I ask.
"You know how you spent all those years not being honest with yourself about golf?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Don't do the same with your personal life. If you like a girl, don't let her get away because you're afraid to admit what you want. All you'll do is make yourself miserable."
Is he trying to say I like Birdie? Why would he even think that? When we're around my parents, all Birdie and I do is fight. My dad's never seen us get along so why would he think I like her? He knows I have a girlfriend.
After dinner at my parents' house I go back to my apartment and try to figure out what to do. It's eight on a Friday night. I should be going out. Lara's out with her friends and keeps sending me drunk texts.
I might have to end things with Lara. We have stuff in common but the more time we spend together, the less I want to be around her. And she really pissed me off when she scolded me for sticking up for Birdie. If I want to defend someone, I will. I'm not going to be scolded for it.
Sitting on the couch, I flip the TV on. There's nothing to watch. I could call up one of my frat brothers to see if they want to do something but I don't know who I'd call. They've all been getting on my nerves lately, maybe because I'm getting fed up with the frat house.
Getting out my phone, I call up Birdie.
"Cal? What's wrong?" she asks, concern in her voice. "Did something happen to Taylor?"
"No. Why do you think something's wrong?"
"You never call on a Friday night, so if you're calling it means something bad must've happened."
"Nothing happened," I say, kicking my feet up on the table. "You're really paranoid."
"I'm not paranoid! It's after eight on a Friday night. You're supposed to be out with your friends. Or drunk. Or at a frat party. You'd only call me if it was an emergency."
"There's no emergency, so I guess I'll hang up."
"No! Wait!" She pauses. "If there's no emergency, then why'd you call?"
"I was going to tell you about my day but I can tell you tomorrow. I'm still coming over, right?"
"Yeah, but Max is having a friend over so it might be loud."
"Is this a real friend or someone your mom is making come over?"
"I think it's an actual friend. It's the kid he's been playing with at recess. Did I tell you Max asked my dad if he could get a baseball glove?"
"No. You didn't mention it."
"He never liked baseball before but I think what you said got to him. That stuff about trying things other people like instead of always doing what he likes?"
"So the new friend likes baseball?"
"Yeah, but Max is still learning. He's been playing catch with my dad in the back yard."
"That's great! Even if he decides he doesn't like it, it helped him meet a friend."
"I really have to thank you for that. That talk you had with him really made a difference. He's acting more confident and even seems excited when he leaves for school."
"Glad I could help."
"So tell me about your day."
"I'll just tell you tomorrow. I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were doing."
"I was looking online at the spring fashion trends. I can do that any time."
"I would've thought you had a date tonight. You don't usually stay at home on a Friday."
Birdie will ask a guy out just to make sure she has a date for Friday night. It could be any guy, as long as she thinks he's hot. She once asked a guy out at the gas station while Taylor was filling up her car. Another time they stopped at the grocery store and Birdie asked out the check-out guy.
"I didn't feel like going out," she says. "It was a long week. So tell me what happened. Did you go to that golf course?"
"Yeah, we toured the place, then played a round. I don't think that course is a good investment. It needs a lot of work."
"Are you going to look at others?"
"Yeah." I pause. "I told him."
"Wait, are you saying what I think you're saying?"
I sigh. "I was so fucking scared, Birdie. I thought he'd hate me."
"I knew he wouldn't. He's your dad. He wants you to be happy."
"Same with your dad but you're still doing what he wants. You don't want to be an actuary."
"I'm not positive I do but that's only because I don't know enough about it. But I'm meeting with someone in the actuarial science department next week to talk through it."
"Then you should also talk to someone in the fashion department. Is that a thing? Is there a major for that?"
"Yes, but I'm not interested."
"Why not? Why won't you just look into it?"
"Because there aren't any jobs. I know I'll find a job as an actuary."
"And be bored for the rest of your life. Just check into the fashion thing. If you don't, I'll stalk you at the coffee shop every day."
"Go ahead. I'll just ignore you."
"Not if I tell all your co-workers embarrassing stories from when we were kids."
"I don't c
are if you tell them that stuff. It takes a lot to embarrass me."
"Birdie, why are you fighting me on this? All I'm asking you to do is talk to someone. If you end up finding out fashion isn't worth pursing, then fine, but at least you asked the questions."
"So what'd your dad say when you told him?"
"You're changing the subject."
"This WAS the subject. You're the one who changed it. So what'd your dad say?"
"Not much. He said he didn't want me playing golf if I was only doing it for him. Then he waited for me to tell him. When I did, he didn't get mad like I thought he would. He just moved on and started talking about golf courses. We decided to both pitch in to buy it and then I'll eventually buy him out when I get the money."
"Cal, that's great! Don't you feel better now that you told him the truth?"
"I feel awesome. Like a giant weight was lifted off me. I don't have to keep pretending I'm going back to professional golf. No more training. No more coaches. I can just play for fun now."
"If you miss the competition you could play for charity tournaments."
"Yeah, I was thinking that, but not anytime soon. Maybe in a few years. For now I need a break from all the pressure to be like my dad. I want golf to be fun like it used to be."
"Did you tell Taylor?"
"No, but I want to be the one to tell her."
"Okay, but do it soon. You know I have a hard time keeping secrets from her."
"Maybe I'll call her tonight."
"On a Friday night? With Luke home? Probably not a good idea. I'd also avoid Saturday mornings. And especially Saturday nights. That's their—
"Birdie, what the hell? I've told you a million times I don't want to know about their sex life! It's bad enough my best friend's dating my sister. I don't even want to think about what they do together."
"I didn't say what they were doing. I just said to avoid calling at those particular times."
"They really do it that much?" I shake my head. "I thought they'd slow down once they lived together."
"Not at all. If anything—"
"Birdie!"
"What? You're the one who asked."
"I was thinking out loud. I didn't want an answer. The less I know about that, the better."
"Same here. I've been in a dry spell so long I'm ready to jump the next the guy who comes along."
When she says it, I imagine ME being that guy, then wonder why the hell I even thought that.
"You should probably go out with the guy first," I say.
"Obviously. I was just joking. But not about the dry spell. It's been forever, which is why I told Taylor she can't tell me any more details about her and Luke."
"She gives you details?"
"Of course. I'm her best friend."
"She shouldn't be talking about that stuff with you. That's private."
"Girls talk about that stuff all the time. But I need a break from it. Hearing her tell me that stuff just makes me want to do it even more."
She needs to stop talking about this. It's making those images pop up in my head again. Birdie and me. In my bed. Her body wrapped around mine.
"Cal? You still there?"
Shit. How long was she talking and what did I miss?
"Sorry, I didn't hear you. What'd you say?"
"I said I feel like I'm the only one not doing it."
"You're not the only one."
"I am if we're talking about people I know. Isla started dating a guy from our movie class so she's doing it. And did I tell you John has a girlfriend?"
"The guy you dated?"
"Yeah, he's dating a girl at work. He was bragging to Jason, one of the guys on first shift, that he's already had sex with her. So yeah, I'm the only one not doing it."
"I'm not," I blurt out without even thinking.
"Yeah, right. You've been dating Lara for weeks."
"Doesn't mean we've done it."
"You're telling me you two haven't had sex yet? Seriously?"
"I don't see her that much. We've really only gone on a few dates."
"How many more dates are you going to wait?"
"I'm not sure we'll be dating much longer."
"Why? I thought you liked her."
"I did at first but not so much anymore."
"Did something happen?"
"Not really. I just don't like her the way I did in the beginning."
A loud crashing noise comes through the phone.
Birdie sighs. "What'd he do now?"
"Who? Max?"
"Yeah. I'm watching him while my parents are at the store. I have to go see what kind of disaster is in the other room. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah. Bye."
After the call, I decide not to go out. I'm tired and just want to sleep. But my sleep is interrupted by dreams of Birdie and me. Together. In bed. I wake up three times, telling myself it was just a dream. I don't want to have sex with Birdie. It was listening to her talk about sex that made me dream about being with her.
Seems like a good enough explanation. I'm just not sure I believe it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cal
"Hey, buddy," I say when Max greets me at the door. A kid with red hair and glasses is standing next to him. "Who's your friend?"
"That's Rusty," Max says. "Don't call him Rust. He doesn't like it."
"Hey, Rusty."
He stares at me, not saying anything.
"Rusty, look!" Max yells before squirting the kid with his water camera.
"Cool! Let me try it!"
They turn and run off, colliding with Birdie.
"I told you guys no running!" She sighs as they run down the hall. "Did he get you?"
"No, I'm still dry." I come inside. "Seems like they're getting along."
"They are, but they're really loud. We might have to study outside."
Max and Rusty run past us.
"Going outside!" Max yells as they go out the door.
"Guess we'll be staying in." She stands at the door and yells, "Don't break anything! And that includes legs and arms! I'm not cleaning up blood!" She shuts the door.
"Where do you want to go?" I ask.
"Let's try the table." She leads me to the dining room, which is connected to the kitchen. "Did you bring the last test?"
"Yeah, but I was hoping we'd study for the one coming up."
"You have to learn the stuff you missed before moving on to new stuff." She holds her hand out. "Let me see it."
I pull it out of my backpack and give it to her. As she's looking it over, I get out my laptop. While I'm starting it up, my eyes wander over to Birdie. She's hunched over my test, her eyes moving back and forth as she looks over the problems. She got a perfect score on that test. She didn't even study. I love that she's smart like that. I think it's hot.
She's wearing cut-off shorts and a tank top, which is not something she'd normally wear, at least outside of the house. I almost never see her in shorts. She always wears skirts or dresses, and lately she's been wearing these one-piece things she calls a romper.
"What's this number?" she asks, pointing to my test. "I can't tell if you wrote an 8 or a 9."
"It's an 8."
She nods and flips to the next page of the test. She unlocks her phone and opens the calculator, punching in numbers really fast.
"Got a pen?" She holds her hand out, her eyes still on the test.
I find a pen and give it to her. She writes something down, then puts the pen between her teeth and adjusts her ponytail. She must've just showered because her hair's damp and she smells like shampoo. A sweet flowery scent that keeps wafting in front of me when she moves.
She takes the pen from her teeth and writes something at the bottom of the page. "Okay, I think I see the problem."
"What is it?"
"Several things, but they're all related. These are things from the first lecture. Get a pen and something to write on."
"We're not using the laptop?"
"We will later. For now I want you to do the work by hand. We're going to start really basic and work up from that."
I get out a notebook and pen. She takes the notebook and writes something in it.
"Answer that." She shoves the notebook in front of me.
The door swings open and Max runs in with Rusty right behind him.
"Birdie," Max yells. "We're thirsty!"
"Then get a glass of water."
"We want fruit punch!"
"Mom said only water." Birdie gets up. "I'll be right back."
As she walks to the kitchen I'm distracted by how she looks in those shorts. She should really wear shorts more often.
"Cal's in love with my sister," Max says to his friend, smiling, as he swings his arms around.
"Shut-up, Max," Birdie says.
"They kissed and now they're gonna have babies." He laughs.
She fills the water glasses. "Where are you getting this stuff? You don't have babies from kissing."
"Then how do you have them?"
"I know!" Rusty says, jumping up and down with his hand in the air.
"Okay, we're not talking about that." Birdie hands them their water. "Go back outside."
"I wanna know about babies," Max whines.
"Wait until Mom and Dad get home. Ask them." She points her finger at Rusty. "Don't tell him anything. I mean it."
He nods really fast.
"C'mon, Rusty." Max motions him to follow him and they go back outside.
"What was that about?" I ask as Birdie sits down at the table.
"Who knows? I don't understand eight-year-old boys."
I laugh. "Didn't feel like giving them a lecture on where babies come from?"
"That's my parents' job, not mine."
"Why does Max think we kissed?"
"Beats me." She points to the notebook. "Did you figure it out?"
"No. I'm not even sure where to start."
"Okay." She moves her chair beside mine. "Start by adding these numbers because we'll use that total for step two."
I stare down at the paper, my mind still on what Max said.
"Cal, what are you waiting for?"
"Sorry, I'm just trying to figure out why Max said that."
"Seriously?" She rolls her eyes. "Forget about Max. He says dumb things all the time. You have to learn to ignore him."
"We kissed," I say, trying to suppress a laugh. "Now we're gonna have babies."
Kinda Hate You: An Enemies to Lovers College Romance Page 22
