“You think I don’t carry that? Every day? That I don’t lie awake at night wondering if I did the right thing leaving? Wondering if I should’ve quit and stayed home and gotten a regular job just to make sure you didn’t drink away the mortgage again?”
His breath hitched, and I knew I’d gone too far.
But I couldn’t take it back. Not now.
“Send the money or don’t,” he said finally. “But don’t pretend you’re better than us or that you’re some kind of god who doesn’t need to worry about his family struggling.”
The call ended.
I stood there, phone in my hand, heart hammering like I’d just come off the field after a full game.
I wanted to throw the phone against the wall. I wanted to scream. But all I could do was stare.
Because as much as I hated it…he wasn’t completely wrong.
They had sacrificed. They had scraped and clawed and pushed me toward this dream.
But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about the dream.
It started being about the payout.
And I didn’t know how to fix that.
I just knew I didn’t want to be the reason they drowned.
And I didn’t want to be the reason I did, either.
I exhaled, long and hollow, a breath that felt like giving up and giving in at once. My thumb hovered over the screen, then moved.Sending it now, I typed, more because the motion steadied me than because it solved anything. I hit send before I could change my mind.
The three dots popped up almost instantly.
Dad: Knew I could count on you, son. You’re a good kid. Don’t forget who’s always been in your corner.
I stared at the message until the words blurred. My phone screen went dark, reflecting my own expression back at me—jaw clenched, eyes flat.
“Hey, you good?”
Garrett’s voice broke through the quiet. He was coming down the hallway, backpack slung over one shoulder, that easy grin on his face like nothing in the world could ever actually bother him.
“Yeah,” I said. “Fine.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You sure? You look like you’re about to fight a wall or something.”
I let out an annoyed breath and started walking toward our class, and he fell into step beside me.
“Well,” he said, his tone light, “maybe this’ll cheer you up. Saw your little stalker again this morning. Girl’s been getting bold—she was parked in the front row by the fieldhouse. And dude…” He grinned. “I actually got a closer look at her this time. She’s hot. Like,waytoo hot to be that unhinged.”
I stopped walking. Something twisted in my chest, sharp and ugly.
Garrett laughed, not noticing. “You should at least find out what she wants, man. If she’s gonna keep showing up, might as well enjoy the view.”
The words hit a nerve I didn’t know was exposed. “Why the hell would I care what some clingy, desperate freak wants?” I snapped. “She’s probably just another attention-starved girl with no life, following guys around because she’s too pathetic to get one of her own.”
Garrett blinked, startled by the venom in my voice. “Whoa. Okay. Didn’t mean to set you off.”
Before I could say anything else, a sound cut through the quiet…a soft, broken sob. It was faint, like someone had tried to swallow it before it escaped.
We both turned toward the noise.
