Page 9 of The Frathole


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“Chill sounds nice right now,” I blurt out.

For my entire college career, it’s been go-go-go, training and traveling for games. When my life isn’t about winning and making “the dream” come true, I’ve been working toward my BS in exercise science or squeezing in fun with my fratbros. Now…working with my agent, and Dad being all gung-ho about what my options’ll be, I’m not as excited about the idea as I once was. Although, I’m scared to even say that out loud. Like I’m betraying the kid who wanted that and my dad who gave so much so I could live this dream.

“Could be the stress of next week,” Troy says. “Just get through the Combine and then see how you feel. Maybe you’ll get your spark back once you see who wants to draft you.”

“You could be right. And that’s another thing that concerns me. Because on the other side of it, there’s a chance I make a huge fuckup and wreck my life.”

“Eh, knowing you, you’ll probably fuck it up either way.”

As I laugh, Troy pats my arm. “If you ever want to talk about it more, I’m here, man.”

Given that I’ve been struggling with this on my own, it’s nice that Troy’s willing to hear me out.

I finish the rest of my shift, then head to the break room. I figure Mom and Dad are in the middle of dinner, so I call Momsince she’s always more likely to have her phone nearby.

“Hey, Ma. What’s up?”

“Oh, hey, sweetie.” I hear what sounds like a crowd in the background, which throws me.

“Did you guys go out to eat?” I ask, surprised since I can’t remember the last time they went to a restaurant.

“Oh, with who? Your dad?”

“Who else would it be with?”

She laughs. “No one. I’m having cocktails with friends.”

“Well, I can just call him. He’s overdue for a chat. He home?”

“Um…” She hesitates in a way that, again, throws me. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Everything okay?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“You called me, and now you’re out with friends and don’t know where Dad is.”

“I just—I’m sorry, I can’t really think straight. It’s been a week. I wanted to catch up with you a little. I know you must be excited about next week. But now’s not a great time. Let’s try and make something happen before your flight, though.”

I grit my teeth. Troy’s probably right. It’s only nerves. This is what I’ve wanted most of my life. I can’t fuck this up now. “Of course,” I tell Mom, then exchange I-love-yous before hanging up.

I’m surprised Mom was out. She’s usually working or at home with Dad. And both are more likely to stay home than go out, so it’s nice she’s getting to spend time with friends.

I consider calling Dad, but I don’t really want to hear the “Hey, champ,” and asking me about my workouts this week. Besides, I’ll see him plenty next week.

Tonight, I just want to head back to the house, do my homework, and get to bed without causing any controversy that might get me in trouble with Marty.

4

Marty

“And one-two-three, one-two-three,”my tango instructor, Jenni, says as I work with my partner, moving in a circle around the classroom.

“Tango would be a great way to help you learn to let go,”my therapist said.

“It’ll get you out of your comfort zone.”

“You could make some new friends.”