More Than Rivals

Chapter 10: Dinner at the Carters

By Friday evening, I was standing outside Toby's house wondering why I had agreed to this.

The house was enormous.

Not university-student enormous.

Actually enormous.

A wide driveway curved toward the entrance, perfectly trimmed hedges lined the walkway, and every window seemed to glow with warm light.

I looked down at myself.

Black trousers.

Cream blouse.

Small earrings.

Flat shoes.

Simple.

I had changed three times before settling on it, but Toby didn't need to know that.

I took a breath and knocked.

The door opened almost immediately.

Toby stood there.

For a second, he just looked at me.

Then his mouth curved into a smile.

"You came."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You invited me."

"I know."

"Then why are you surprised?"

"I wasn't sure you'd actually come."

"I said I would."

He stepped aside.

"Come in."

I walked through the doorway.

The inside of the house was even more impressive.

Everything was spotless.

The furniture looked expensive enough that I was afraid to breathe near it.

Toby noticed me looking around.

"Relax."

"I'm relaxed."

"You're standing like you're afraid to touch the walls."

"I'm trying not to break anything."

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

He laughed.

"You're cute when you're nervous."

I looked at him.

"Don't start."

"Sorry."

He wasn't sorry.

I knew that smile.

He was enjoying this.

"You look nice, by the way," he added.

I looked away.

"Thanks."

He smiled.

"Really nice."

"Toby."

"Okay."

He raised his hands.

"I'll stop."

He didn't.

---

His father was waiting in the dining room.

The first thing I noticed was how different he looked from Toby.

They had similar eyes, but that was where the similarities ended.

His father looked serious.

Controlled.

The kind of man who didn't need to raise his voice to make people listen.

He stood when we entered.

"Zikora."

"Mr. Carter."

"Richard."

He held out his hand.

I shook it.

"It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

His eyes moved briefly toward Toby.

Then back to me.

"Please, sit."

I sat beside Toby.

Richard took the seat across from us.

Dinner began quietly.

Too quietly.

I tried to make conversation.

"The house is beautiful."

"Thank you."

Richard took a sip of his drink.

"Toby tells me you're studying communications."

I glanced at Toby.

"You talk about me?"

Toby gave me a look.

"Sometimes."

Richard ignored him.

"How are you finding the university?"

"I like it."

"Your grades?"

"They're good."

"Good is vague."

I blinked.

"I'm doing well."

Richard nodded.

"And what are your plans after graduation?"

I answered honestly.

"I'd like to write. Maybe work in publishing or media."

"Writing."

"Yes."

"That's competitive."

"I know."

"Do you have a backup plan?"

I opened my mouth.

Toby spoke first.

"Dad."

Richard looked at him.

"What?"

"You don't have to interview her."

"I'm having a conversation."

"It doesn't sound like one."

I looked between them.

Richard leaned back.

"I was curious."

"I know."

Toby's tone was polite.

But there was tension underneath it.

I placed my hand lightly on his arm.

He glanced at me.

His expression softened.

Just for a second.

Then Richard cleared his throat.

"So, Toby tells me you're helping him with his class."

"Sometimes."

"He's struggled with that class."

"I know."

"He's struggled with several things."

Toby's face tightened.

"Dad."

Richard looked at him.

"What?"

"I said I'm handling it."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Because your grades don't show that."

Silence.

Toby looked down.

Richard continued.

"Your coach tells me you're missing practice."

"My shoulder hurts."

"Then get it treated."

"I will."

"When?"

"I said I will."

Richard's voice hardened.

"You keep saying that."

Toby's jaw clenched.

I watched him carefully.

The confident guy I knew was disappearing.

His shoulders were tense.

His fingers were curled tightly around his fork.

Richard looked at him.

"Baseball is your future."

Toby finally looked up.

"Is it?"

The room went silent.

Richard frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"It means maybe I don't want my entire life to be about baseball."

I stared at Toby.

Richard's expression hardened.

"You've been saying that lately."

"Maybe because it's true."

"You don't get to throw away the opportunities I've given you."

"I never said I was throwing anything away."

"You act like you're not serious."

"I am serious."

"Then start behaving like it."

Toby pushed his chair back.

"I'm done."

"Toby."

"I'm done."

He walked out.

I sat there, frozen.

Richard sighed.

"You'll have to excuse him."

I nodded.

"Of course."

A few seconds passed.

Then I stood.

"I'm going to check on him."

Richard looked at me.

"Of course."

---

I found Toby outside.

He was standing on the back porch, staring into the darkness.

His hands were shoved into his pockets.

I walked over.

"Hey."

He didn't turn around.

"You didn't have to come out."

"I know."

"Then why did you?"

I leaned against the railing beside him.

"Because you looked upset."

He gave a humorless laugh.

"That's one way to put it."

I looked at him.

"Are you okay?"

He was quiet.

Then he said, "I hate coming home."

I frowned.

"Why?"

"Because every time I come here, I become sixteen again."

I didn't say anything.

He looked toward the yard.

"My dad used to take me to every game. When I was a kid, he was my hero."

"What happened?"

"He got injured."

I knew that part.

His father's baseball career had ended because of his hand.

"He couldn't play anymore," Toby continued. "After that, everything became about me."

He swallowed.

"Every game. Every practice. Every grade."

His voice became quieter.

"He decided I was going to have the career he lost."

My chest tightened.

"And do you want that?"

He laughed softly.

"I don't know."

"That's okay."

He looked at me.

"What?"

"You don't have to know."

He stared at me for a moment.

"Everyone expects me to know."

"You're allowed to figure it out."

He looked away.

"I wish my dad understood that."

I moved closer.

"Maybe he doesn't know how."

"That's not an excuse."

"No."

I paused.

"But it might be the reason."

He looked at me again.

"You always defend people."

"I didn't defend him."

"Kind of."

"I said understanding someone doesn't mean excusing them."

He smiled faintly.

"You're annoyingly reasonable."

"I've been told."

He laughed.

It was small.

But real.

I smiled.

"There."

"What?"

"You're smiling."

"Don't make a big deal out of it."

"I won't."

He looked at me.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For coming."

"I told you I would."

"No."

He shook his head.

"I mean for this."

His eyes met mine.

"For staying."

I didn't know what to say.

So I stepped closer.

"You're not alone, Toby."

His expression changed.

Something vulnerable appeared in his eyes.

He looked down at me.

I could hear my own heartbeat.

He moved closer.

I didn't move away.

His hand lifted slightly, as though he wanted to touch my face.

Then stopped.

Neither of us spoke.

We were standing so close that I could feel his breath.

His eyes dropped to my lips.

My heart pounded.

For one terrifyingly wonderful second, I thought he was going to kiss me.

Then the back door opened.

We jumped apart.

"Toby."

His father's voice.

Toby closed his eyes briefly.

"What?"

"Come inside."

"I'll be there."

His father disappeared.

Toby looked at me.

"Sorry."

I shook my head.

"It's okay."

He smiled.

"I'll walk you back."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

He held out his hand.

I looked at it.

Then took it.

His fingers closed around mine.

We walked back toward the front of the house.

Neither of us mentioned what had almost happened.

But neither of us forgot it.

---

When we reached my dorm, Toby stopped.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

The silence stretched.

Then he smiled.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

He nodded.

"Okay."

He started walking away.

I watched him.

Then he turned around.

"Zikora?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for tonight."

I smiled.

"Anytime."

He smiled back.

Then disappeared down the path.

I stood there for another few seconds.

My heart was still beating too fast.

I touched my lips.

Nothing had happened.

Not really.

But somehow, everything felt different.

And for the first time, I had to admit something I wasn't ready to say out loud.

I was starting to fall for Toby Hayes.