When he gets back, his cheeks are glowing red. I can tell immediately that he’s had something to drink. It’s late, almost ten, and Paisley still isn’t back. I’m starting to get worried.
“What a load of shit,” Dad mumbles, closing the front door. His keys land on the floor after he misses the bowl. “A dirty fucking load of shit.”
A dirty fucking load of shit?
I put my book down and walk over to him. He collapses onto a chair at the dining room table and starts tapping around on his phone.
“Everything okay?”
Dad snorts. Drops of mucus land on his display. “These motherfuckers.”
“Ah.” I take a seat across from him. “I know that you’re angry, Dad, but if you want to insult me, you don’t have to do it in the third person.”
He looks up and squints as if he was just noticing me. “Why would I insult you?”
“Hmm. No idea. Because I just tossed all your future plans for me out the window?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Huh?”
Dad sighs. He puts his phone down on the table and looks at me. “Psychology, you said?”
I nod.
“You think that will make you happy?”
I nod again.
He shrugs. “Then do it. I want whatyouwant.”
I can’t believe what’s happening. “Just like that? No scene?”
“Knox, please. Why should I make any scene?”
I spread my arms wide because the answer’s so obvious. “My being a professional snowboarder was always your dream.”
“Yeah. Because I thought it wasyourdream.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Maybe you should’ve told me, Knox.”
Yeah. Yeah, I should have. I’m sitting here in my chair like I’ve turned to stone, I simply cannot believe this whole situation is real. To be on the safe side, I pinch my arm, but instead of waking up, my skin starts to turn red.
“But I hope you realize you won’t get off so easily.”
I let go of my arm. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t owe the USADA any more tests, but you owe me. You are going to go and see Dr. Sherman regularly and have your blood taken. He’s going to keep me informed. If I find out that you are shooting that shit again, Knox…”
“I won’t,” I interrupt. “I’ll go to Dr. Sherman. Promise.”
“Good.” He starts typing on his phone again.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting in touch with a few folks.”
