Bryce's POV:
When I get home, my parents are both there.
"Evening, son. Did you have a good day at school?" Mom asks, as usual.
"Yes."
"When is your next game?" Dad inquires.
Why are they suddenly acting like caring parents? They never did before. Is it because of what happened?
"Friday."
"We'll be there."
"Why? Don't you have a date night?"
"We can always go on Saturday, Bryce. We want to support you," Mom replies.
"Why the sudden interest? In France, you barely asked about my day or attended my games," I snap. "Are you doing this to ease your guilt? Newsflash: he's gone, and nothing you do now will bring him back!"
Mom gasps and starts to cry.
"Apologize!" Dad demands.
"There’s my real father. I knew it was all an act. Do me a favor: don’t come to my games to earn
