So grateful I get to call them mine.
nine
Cameron
Thebestpartofliving in downtown Denver is the incredible view I have from my penthouse balcony. I’ve always been a city person, so the sounds and bright lights below soothe my soul. Always have.
I bring my water bottle to my mouth and take a swig, wiping the back of my hand across it after to gather the bit of liquid still clinging to my lips.
I can’t believe how much has changed so quickly.
Two weeks ago, I was still a Denver Lizard.
Two weeks ago, I still hated Zhuri Hart.
Now I’m a Colorado Comet, co-captaining the team with the woman who would probably have considered me her nemesis.
And we’re getting along.Actuallygetting along.
I’m learning we were both far too quick to judge each other when we met, and that first impression set us down on a path we probably could have avoided entirely.
Zhuri’s not bad. Honestly, she might be kind of fun.
I dreaded the new team announcement a couple of weeks ago, but now I’m optimistic about how this season is going to go.
Until my phone rings.
I grab it from my pocket and let out the loudest sigh. My dad seems to have a sense for when I’m happy, and he uses it to bring me right back down.
“Hey, Tata,” I say softly, pressing the speaker button and resting my phone on the balcony railing in front of me.
“Cameron.” His tone is short and dismissive. “Zhuri Hart has the exact same contract as you.”
“I’m aware of that. I think it’s great. She’s always worked hard.”
“It’s fucking pathetic,” he bites. “How are you supposed to make a name for yourself when your worth is already being diminished to that of a woman?”
“Twenty million dollars sounds pretty worthy to me.”
“You should have demanded more. This league is already a joke. The least they can do is pay you more than a woman.”
I pinch my brow. “That ‘woman’ is one of the best left wingers I’ve ever seen. Her gender has nothing to do with what she’s capable of.”
I hear him scoff. “Your mother made you soft, Cameron.”
“My mother taught me fucking empathy and understanding,” I mutter under my breath.
Despite all the biases my father has tried to instill in me over the years, my mother has made sure none of them stuck. I’ve never thought myself better than somebody because of their gender, sexuality, or the color of their skin.
The same can’t be said of Ivor Kovacic. I’ve never known someone more bigoted in my life.
The fact that my mom kept me from turning into him is a miracle in and of itself.
“You need to take strides to leave an actual legacy,” my dad continues. “I worked hard to make sure you would have a career, and I won’t see you waste it.”
I sigh and hang my head.
He’s right.
