"And?" I say.
"Come on, dude, don't tell me you forgot our ritual. You, me, Drew, and Tristan ..."
I remember. Sunday afternoons watching football-- me, Brian, Tristan, and Drew. No chicks allowed was our motto.
"I'm leaving for Tristan's in ten. Be ready," Brian says, then the line goes dead.
I'm in my briefs. I'd sworn to myself I'd sleep all day. But if I want to get back into a normal routine, Sunday football can't be ignored.
I take a quick shower--believe me I'm used to them. And when I'm pulling on some old sweats and a t-shirt, I hear Mom downstairs fawning over Brian.
I'm so glad you called Caleb. You're such a good friend. Here's some leftover Chinese food from last night. I swear she's like an out-of-control machine.
When I get downstairs, Brian says to me, "Your mom rocks, CB. Check out all the stuff she packed for us."
I glance into the large grocery bag. Mom must have put half of the food from our refrigerator in it. I'm about to hug her, but she picks up a dish rag and starts wiping off the kitchen table when I come close. "Go on," she says, "and have a good time."
At Tristan's house we have to wait for the game to come on. It's the Packers against the Bears. Before I got arrested, I could have told you every date of every game and every Bears' opponent playing in those games.
I park myself on the couch in his basement and lean back. I can hardly wait to watch. The other guys have no clue how much I missed this.
Hell, I didn't even realize how much I missed this.
I got Kendra back, I got my friends back. I've got to forget about Maggie. I'm sure I'm just thinking about her so much because we're working together. I came back to Paradise with a mission to get my life back to normal. Sitting back and watching the game makes me realize that the status quo isn't all that bad.
Until Tristan starts tossing cans of Michelob to each of us.
"Where'd you get the brew?" Drew asks.
"From the Fourth of July. I snatched a case from my parents' party and hid it. My mom didn't even know it was missing."
"Way to go, man," Brian says. "Toss one of those puppies over here."
Brian and Drew catch theirs and open them right away. I catch the one thrown to me. Tristan holds his can up. "To a new season of Bears ball."
"To a quarterback who can actually throw the ball," Brian says.
"And a running back that can actually run the ball," Drew offers.
They all turn to me, waiting for my dumb football wisdom.
I'm holding the can, the coldness against my palm sending a chill up my arm. "And a punter who could kick the ball," I add, wondering if they realize I haven't flipped the top and opened it yet.
They all take a swig. Except me. I may have jeopardized going back to jail when I got in a fight with Vic when he insulted Maggie, but that was worth the risk. I haven't even been near alcohol since the night of the accident. I'm not about to jeopardize going back for a stupid can of beer.
"What do you think you're doing?" an adult voice from the staircase calls out.
Shit, it's Tristan's mom.
I would try to hide the beer, but that'd be pointless. We've already been busted.
She storms down the stairs and rips the Michelob out of Tristan's hand. "Not in my house, you won't," she says, then points her finger at me. "You may think you can just come back here and suck everyone into your lifestyle, Caleb, but I won't let that happen."
Tristan steps forward. "Ma, stop."
"Don't protect him, Tristan." She looks down at the beer can in my hand, then shakes her head in disgust. "Caleb, please leave my house."
I put the unopened can down on the table. Mrs. Norris doesn't even look at the can. She's too busy staring at me and sneering. "Stay away from my son," she orders as I head out.
There's no use even defending myself. Mrs. Norris already has her mind made up about me. Verdict: Guilty.
Besides, if I explain the truth she won't believe me. The way she glared at me says more than words ever will.
"That was a buzz kill," Brian says when we're back in his car. "Where are we gonna watch the game now? It's probably close to halftime."
"We can go back to my place," I offer.
Ten minutes later we settle ourselves in my basement and watch the game. The Bears are up by three, but the Packers have the ball and it's the fourth quarter.
I'm totally into the game when Brian says, "I need to tell you something."
"Shoot," I say, taking a handful of potato chips and shoving them into my mouth. My attention is still on the game, but I chance a small glance at my friend.
Brian is leaning forward, the expression on his face totally serious. "She'll kill me for telling you."
I glance back at the TV. The Packers just fumbled and it's the Bears' ball. This could clinch a victory for them. "Who?" I say, only partially listening to Brian.
"Kendra."
Kendra was recently in my arms and a willing partner in my bed. It wasn't the most romantic reunion; I guess I expected it to be like old times. It's been anything but.
"Did you see that?" I ask Brian, getting totally riled about the Bears game. You can't blame me for being excited when I'd been restricted from watching football for the past year. I missed a whole season. "They just sacked Edmonton!"