“Genevieve, you can’t act like this,” their father scolded as he guided her back to her seat. He kept his voice even and calm, though, and then he turned to the ladies at the table of spilled drinks where a waitress was already at work with a towel. He produced his wallet and removed some bills. “I’m very sorry. I’ll pay for those drink refills and any cleaning.” Landon took a quick look around. Everyone was staring and whispering. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to die. He shook his head and tapped Genevieve to get her attention. “You know I don’t want people staring,” he scolded. “You can’t let people disrespect you—here or when you’re on the football field, Landon,” Genevieve said. “You need to learn that.” “This isn’t the football field. This is the diner.” Genevieve gave him a fiery look that quickly melted, and he was afraid she would burst into tears, but she bit her lip and put her hand on top of his and said, “I’m sorry, Landon. I just can’t stand . . .” “Don’t worry so much about me, Genevieve,” Landon said. “I’m gonna be fine here. This is a football town. When they see me play, no one’s gonna laugh. I promise.” “You don’t—” Landon cut her off with his hand. “You have to ignore people like that, Genevieve.” Her eyes burned again and her nostrils flared. “Maybe you can ignore them, Landon. You didn’t hear what they said, but I did.” Landon’s mouth turned sour. He glared at his sister, removed his hat, and disconnected his electronic ears, the processors, the 17
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