“Uh, yeah…thanks for having me over?” I still wasn’t convinced my presence here was her idea.

“Of course. Nolan, you know Dylan, right?” she said, introducing us, her smile brighter as she touched Dylan’s shoulder. It disgusted me.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” I nodded, more uneasy than I was just seconds ago.

“Oh…” Millie said, looking around for something else to say. When she couldn’t come up with anything, she just turned to Sam and started talking. That was it, my warm embrace by this part of Reed’s family. Yeah, she was trying.

Dinner was stilted and awkward. Sam, thankfully, filled the silence with hunting stories. And despite my complete and utter disdain for the sport, if you could even call it that, I listened intently, hanging on every word. Reed kept hold of my hand under the table, even while we ate; I giggled the few times he dropped food from his fork with his left hand. For such a gifted athlete, he was shit with his left hand. Thank God, his right one healed after the accident.

We all headed to the sitting room for coffee after dinner, a tradition that seemed so bizarre to me. I didn’t really like coffee, but I was just happy to not have been insulted over the last hour, so I sat there and gripped my cup, taking tiny sips of my drink that I loaded with cream and sugar just to choke it down.

Dylan and Reed were talking about Reed’s upcoming press conference, and I was trying to put all of my focus on that when I felt Millie’s polished nails tap at my shoulder, almost like a chicken’s beak. I looked up at her, a bit bothered and I think she was surprised by my boldness. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, pulling her hands back together and folding them in front of her. “I was just wondering, if I might borrow you, just for a moment,” she asked, holding her hand out to point toward the door.

I looked at Reed, who was still involved with Dylan, and then looked back to Millie, whose face was growing full of impatience. Remembering Reed’s words, that his mom was trying, I filled my lungs and calmed my nerves. I smiled up at her and stood to follow her from the room, looking back once more to catch Reed’s attention. His eyes were wide, and I just shook my head for him not to worry, shrugging a little to acknowledge how strange this was.

We walked to Millie’s office, and she closed the door behind me—instantly killing my spirits and diminishing my confidence to nothing. I felt like a grade-schooler who had been sent to the principal’s office. Out of instinct, I sat in the large leather chair facing her desk and waited for her to administer my punishment. But instead of sitting across from me, Millie sat at the corner of her desk, leaning with one leg propped atop, an amazingly casual pose for her. She pulled her glasses from her face and folded them, sitting them next to her. She looked down quietly for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for the words to her speech. Oh God, was I going to get a lecture?

“Nolan, my son loves you. And I don’t think you’re good enough,” she slapped me with this right out of the gate. No easing in. My emotions betrayed me as my eyes watered at her words, but I held my breath and willed the tears not to slide any further.

Millie sighed heavily, and I looked to see her looking down once again, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That came out cruel. I don’t mean to be that way,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just that Reed has always been my baby boy. He was all I had…for so long. And I had these plans for him. Who he’d marry, where they’d live? But that boy, he is stubborn. Well…you know this.” She laughed a little, closing her eyes while she thought of Reed.

“Like I said, my son loves you,” she said, reaching behind her to grab a large folder from her desk. “Reed came to see me a few weeks ago. He told me about your academic troubles.”

I gulped. I actually gulped at her words, looking at my knees in shame and wishing once again for the damn super power.

“You see, my son wanted me to give you a scholarship,” she chuckled a little to herself, more amusement at my expense. “I explained that we have rules, and the scholarships, Nolan? They just don’t work that way.”

Oh God, she was pitying me now! I wanted to curl up like a bug, and disintegrate into her carpet.

“But my son? Well, like I said. He loves you. And let’s just say he gave me some things to think about,” she said, touching my hand a little. I could feel her hand trembling, and was lost between wanting to shirk it from my skin and wanting to grab hold of it tightly. I was powerless, and I couldn’t get myself to look her in the eyes.