Sawyer
“Come again?” I say into the phone, convinced I heard wrong.
“Would you like to come to the game on the twelfth?” Dad asks, confirming that I did hear him right the first time. “You can bring a friend, the family, whatever. I’ll get you tickets in one of the suites, so you’ll be warm, you’ll have food, and a great view of the game.”
“Um, Dad.” I shake my head before remembering he can’t actually see that. “You do remember I don’t like football, right?”
“Yes, Sawyer, I remember you don’t like football. But maybe you could humor me and come to a game during what will probably be my last season.”
“Why?”
“Why come support your old man?”
“I mean why now? You haven’t invited me to a game in ages. Why the sudden change?” I hug my knees to my chest.
“I realized that I should have be
