Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Fuck yes!”
It hadn’t been a pretty win, but it was a W, and that’s what mattered.
And when our team high-fived and hugged after our win, I thought of Brax. It was so stupid because he didn’t really care about me or my sport despite the text he’d sent, but I still wanted him to know how badass I was. I wanted to impress him.
We showered and loaded the bus again, everyone lively and celebrating much more than we had been this morning. I’d almost forgotten that Coach wanted to talk to me until we got back to campus and he said, “Langley, can I have a quick word?”
Concern activated. That easily I went from Fuck yeah, this is gonna be a great day to Fuck no, this is gonna be the worst day ever. There was a small possibility I could be seen as dramatic, but in my opinion, most people were.
I went into his office and closed the door. “Yeah, Coach?”
“I spoke to your father yesterday.” I was fairly certain that in the history of the world, there had never been a good conversation that started with I spoke to your father. It was basically the number-one rule in the book of life. “I didn’t tell him you were sick, but the fact that you were, it nailed home some of our concerns.”
Their concerns…because apparently they were a unit now? Yeah, my dad had gone to FU and he’d had ties to the college ever since, but was it really fair that he got to call my coach to have concerns about me? “I’m fine. It was just a stomach bug.”
“Yes, but our worry is that you’re working yourself too hard. The late nights at the bar can’t help. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything other than your grades and lacrosse. I know I said I’d give it a chance, but we’re only a couple of weeks in and you’ve already missed a practice. And if I’m being honest, I’ve noticed a change in your performance.”
“I just won the game for us today…sir.” I forced out the last word, fighting to bite back my frustration. “I haven’t missed a single practice in three years until yesterday. I’ve been the highest-scoring middy on the team every season so far. I work my ass off when it comes to lacrosse, and I don’t really think it’s fair to hold one stomach bug against me.” The stomach thing was obviously a lie, but the rest of it was true. “I like this job. I think it’s good for me.”
Maybe he would think I was bullshitting him. Maybe it didn’t make sense how cleaning tables at a bar made me feel…hell, like I was accomplishing something, but it did.
“I’m not telling you to quit…of course, I can’t do that,” he said while hinting heavily that he thought I should. “I just know your father feels strongly about it, and he wants what’s best for you.”
So that was what this was really about. Dad had Coach doing his dirty work. If I wouldn’t talk to him, he’d find another way to get to me. “I’ll talk to him,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Thank you. And good game today, Langley.” The irony of him saying that after making it sound like I’d been slacking wasn’t lost on me, but I let it go. “Have a good rest of your day.”
Everyone was already gone when I got back to the locker room. The second I stepped outside, I called my dad.
“Tyson, I—”
“I’m not quitting my job. If you pull something like this again, I’ll walk away from lacrosse before I leave the bar.”
“You’re being dramatic. It’s a bar, and you’re only doing it to get back at me. You’ve loved lacrosse your whole life, and you’ve worked at that place for only a couple of weeks.”
“I don’t care. It’s my life. Stop trying to dictate how I live it. You have another son you can do that with now.”
But he’d always had another son. One he’d thankfully provided for monetarily, at least, if not in any other way. I couldn’t imagine how Perry must have felt his whole life, how much he must hate me, and I couldn’t blame him.
I ended the call, immediately opening my texts messages, going to Brooding Bad Boy, fingers lingering over the screen. What was I doing? I couldn’t run to Brax every time my dad pissed me off. I shouldn’t want to, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that so quickly becoming my default reaction.
Instead of messaging, I headed home. The guys were all sitting around playing video games and looked up when I entered.
“What was that about? Calling in sick yesterday?” Collins asked.
“Yeah, but it’s fine.” I waved my hand like it was just a minor inconvenience that didn’t make my insides feel like they were burning up. “I need a drink. Who wants a drink?”