"This isn't a date. I promise," I reassure my parents the next night, even though they didn't even ask that question. I just fee; like I need to convince them and myself this is nothing more than a friendly invite, to 'defuse tension', whatever that means.

"I think it's really great Everett invited you out," Dad says.

I guess, if he was less of a bomb ready to explode. Instead, I don't know what to expect. Everett is just looking for someone to come along. He would have asked others the same question, I am sure of it. I pull on my dress as I cannot help but feel a little nervous about the outing. "This isn't too dressy, right?"

Mom smiles as she looks at me. "No. It's perfect."

However, Mom is the woman who wears pearls for grocery shopping. I am probably overdressed. But before I have time to change, the doorbell rings. Damnit. Too late now. "That's him." I wave to them. "I'll see you both later."

I greet Everett at the door. He's dressed in a button down and jeans. His clothes hug him tightly, showing off his toned body. His hair is styled lightly with gel, making waves on top of his head. Everyone thought he is attractive, but maybe this is the first time I notice.

His beat-up face is healing and whatever bruising he has is covered up with a color foundation. It is applied with such precision, making me wonder how much experience he had covering his bruises.

"Ready?"

I nod as I walk out the door. "Let's make your dad happy."

He smiles as he opens the car door for me. "You really look stunning."

This is the first time he opened the door for me. I have a feeling that there will be a lot of firsts tonight. My cheeks turn hot as I brush a stray piece of hair from my face. Completements still feel odd coming from him.

"Thank you. I don't think I have ever seen you dress up so much."

"I hope it's not too much," he says with concern as he backs out of the driveway.

I shake my head. "Nah. I like it."

There is a minute of silence as Everett drives down the road to get to the restaurant. "Thanks for agreeing to this."

"Who can refuse a free meal?" I only assume he is paying.

He chuckles. "I just wanted to give a little run down of my dad. We often butt heads; I hope he'll be more interested in talking to you than me."

His comment makes me frown. It is his father, and he doesn't want to talk? I am someone Everett barely knows, but he rather I steal the show.

"We've always been like this. Don't worry," he reassures me as he takes a turn down another road.

But I am not reassured. No one should have a relationship with their parents like this.

_____________________________

We walk into a restaurant on Lane Avenue. It is a restaurant we used to frequent often before Vera left. I haven't been back in months. The warm buttery savory smells waft up my nose and instantly make my stomach growl.

"Everett! Here!" a middle-aged man says almost instantly, waving us down as he sits at a small table in the restaurant's corner.

Everett smiles, but it looks stiff. He moves over to the man and sits down at the table covered in a white tablecloth without waiting for the waiter to help us. "Hey Dad." His tone is a little dry. I wonder if his dad catches it.

"Hey, and you brought a friend," he says with a pleasant grin.

"I'm Nora. Pleased to meet you," I say as I shake his hand, then sit down at the table.

"Nora's the intern for the team and she's coach Orban's daughter," Everett explains, wasting no time placing me in the spotlight.

If he wasn't sitting, he would have collapsed in the chair. He looks shocked. "Wow, now that's exciting. I'm sure Everett told you how much of a football fan I am. Coach Orban is probably the best coach we have seen at OSU in decades, and I'm excited for what he has coming this season. I have a few questions about the coach if you're ok with answering them."

"You have me all dinner long. Be my guest." Now I understand why Everett brought me. I am nothing but the best distraction. The light in his eyes sparkle as if he won the lottery. Everett was banking on this.

"Oh Everett, I like her."

Everett nods silently with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as he opens the menu.

"Nora, you can call me Dale, by the way. I'm this good-looking man's father," Dale says, pointing to Everett. "I hope you don't mind, I ordered bread for starters. Don't let me hold you up, look at the menu, decide what you want."

The menu is nearly memorized in my mind. I know exactly what I want before I even look at the page in front of me. The lamb chops are always my go to. The way the meat melts in my mouth is enough to make me cry.

As we wait for our food to come, Dale talks about his job at some small metal smith workshop in Newark.

When Everett mentioned that they didn't see eye to eye, I prepared for the worst, worried that I might defuse a massive fight, but Dale seems kind and friendly. So far, no fight is brewing. I just hope it stays that way.

Soon his daily stories die down and his attention turns to Everett, who has been silent this whole time.

"So how was the last game?" Dale asks his son. "Saw it on TV and looked lively."

Everett looks up from his empty plate. There is a look of surprise on his face. He probably didn't foresee his father speaking to him while I am here. "It was exciting," Everett says with a lack of emotion. He provides a few small details on the game, making me fill in the parts he missed.

Dale turns his attention to me as Everett finishes sharing. "How's it like being on the field during the game? Is it as exciting as I think it is?"

Everett's eyes train on me, waiting for me to say something.

"It is that exciting. I've really learned a lot about football. There's so much about it to understand."

He snaps his fingers. "I've been telling that to Everett for years."

My attention is to Everett, who looks a bit disappointed. I wonder if he wants me to say something about how I hate football. I wonder if there are key phrases he wants me to say. I just wish I knew what they are. Why couldn't he have shared before hand?

"So, tell me, how's it being the daughter of the most important coach in college football?"

I shrug as my cheeks grow warm. I won't say he is the most important coach in college football, but Dale seems intent on believing that, so I don't rain on his parade. "Don't know anything different. He's just my dad."

He laughs, slapping his leg. "Just what I would expect. Your dad seems so casual in the interviews, and you're just as casual." His attention turns to Everett, who has a frown on his face, clearly not enjoying the conversation anymore. "I always have told Everett to demand the spotlight, that's how people get noticed. Be the strongest person on the team, that's how you go pro."

Our food comes out and I can almost hear a sigh of relief from Everett.

Everett is good at catching the spotlight. I think he was always good at that, but I wonder if Dale knows that Everett hides from attention off the field. Everyone has secrets, and I know some of Everetts. He doesn't like football. He doesn't want to go pro.

"So, how's Marty?" Everett asks.

"Oh, the dog is fine, missing you, though."

He smile. It's the first time since we sat down that I've seen it. "I miss him too."

"How about this, next dinner will be at home, I'll cook your favorite, and you can see him."

"I don't know, training keeps me busy...." his voice trails off as Dale's smile dissolves. He makes eye contact with me before adding, "But maybe I could make it work."

"Great, and you can bring Nora along, too. I can tell she's a dog person."

As much as I want to disagree, I find myself nodding along. I don't want to get roped into another activity but here I am and Everett is smiling at me in approval. His smile makes me feel warm and fuzzy. "You're right, I am."

_________________________

The conversation continues until our food is wrapped up in carry out boxes. Everett insists in paying for the whole dinner check, and Dale agrees without much convincing. I wonder if Everett often pays for the meals when they go out. The way the check sat on the table for a second, it was as if Dale was purposely waiting for Everett to pick it up.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the night?" Dale asks as we stand in the parking lot of the restaurant.

I look at the time on my phone. It's already nine. Normally after dinner, I would do homework then get ready for bed, probably watch a show on my computer, but Dale looks like he wants to continue the night with us.

"Actually, Nora and I are going out for a walk. It's kind of our thing," Everett says with a smile as he quickly hugs his dad goodbye.

I glance at Everett. Guess Everett doesn't want to spend any more time with his dad, which means hopefully, I would be back home shortly. Then I could chip away at my mound of homework.

"Ah, say no more! I get it. You two enjoy the night out."

"I'll talk to you soon."

I shake his father's hand. It wraps around mine the same way, Everett's does. The only difference is his father has more calloses. "It was really great meeting you."

"Trust me, pleasure is all mine. And next time you're in Newark, let me know. You're always welcome at our place."

I give one last smile then with that; go into the car and Everett drives off.

"So do you want to go on a walk?" Everett asks as we make our way down the road.

I laugh for a second before I realize he was serious. He must want to debrief on the outing. "I guess it's our thing," I quip.

He chuckles. "In all honesty, it kind of is." He sighs. "I just had to say something, or he would keep us there all night."

"Your father's nice."

"I know. He really is."

"So why did you want me to come? I thought I would deflect some massive fight, but you two seem to have a good relationship."

"It gets tiring to talk about football all the time. It's nice when someone else can talk too," he says as he pulls into a small parking lot in front of a park.

"Well, I hope you know bringing coach's daughter probably made him want to talk about football more."

"But at least I didn't have to talk about it," he mutters, getting out of the car.

I follow him out as cool air hit me. Fall is coming fast and before long, I would have to wear a big puffy coat. Then the Ohio gray will come. I am not looking forward to that. Walking around campus in the cold is not my definition of fun. "Is talking about football really the worst thing ever?"

He shrugs. "I would rather talk about other things. There's more to my life than football. I don't think he even knows I teach yoga."

This statement holds weight to it, leaving me speechless.

As we walk around the park, Everett stops to sit on a bench. I sit down next to him, unsure what else to do.

He looks at me and smiles. "Listen, I know I've been terrible, but when I'm with you, you make me feel more than a chess piece in a football game. If you are ok with it, I would like to take you on more dates and get to know you better."

My mouth falls open just a millimeter. My eyes widen as I stare at him. Is he serious? What happened to being just friends? It feels like he just skipped that. Clearly he does not know anything about friends.

He scratches the back of his neck. "Well, are you going to say something?"

A lump forms in my throat the more I think about it. Dad didn't want me to date any of the football guys. He told me that was why he wanted me for the job, so how would this play out? I would break his trust and I cannot do that. Plus, Everett, I think I hate him... do I hate him? No, I don't think I do hate him. But do I like him? I am not sure. I don't know him well enough, so maybe dates would help.

His face twists up as the silence continued. He stands up with clenched fists.

"Everett, wait..." I squeak out.

His head snaps towards me, meeting my eyes.

"Don't you think this is dangerous? I'm the coach's daughter. What will the team think?" I ask, posing a serious question.

The frown etched on his face deepens. "My life's always going to revolve around football, isn't it? Even you will remind me of that." He scoffs. "You know, forget what I asked. I'll take you home."

"Everett," I sigh, hoping it will give me time to come up with something more to say.

He shakes his head as he walks towards his car. "I see I made a mistake."

But maybe it isn't. Maybe it is I that have made the mistake. I bite my tongue. My hands are sweaty as I try to come up with something to say. How could this not turn messy? Even if I am not the intern, I am still the coach's daughter. Going on dates with Everett could probably be a recipe for disaster. Couldn't Everett see that?