Page 99 of Made Better Together

Five minutes later, she’s off to shower, and I skim her suggestions after reviewing the blurbs. One of the books involves a professor and his graduate assistant, and the other a single mom and her arranged marriage to a mafia don.

Neither has much to do with twenty-something athletes trying to navigate the real world.

Yet, I’m still turned on when I read one of the spice scenes. What does that mean, in reality?

I’m definitely going to go back to the beginning and do closer reads…

First, I need to check off an official Sunday task. I’ve given the decision the weekend, and now I need to woman up.

After talking to Connor this morning, I’m certain. I want to walk away from the medical school application process, for now. It might not be what my parents want to hear, but my instincts say it’s better than going through the motions any longer.

Running my fingers over the buttons on my phone, I consider what to say to Mom if she pushes me to keep going again. It’s not my norm to do something over her objection.

But I’m graduating from college. I’ll almost certainly have a pro contract in a matter of months. I’m already making enough to pay my bills via sponsorships.

It’s time to make decisions that I’ve been avoiding.

Time to act like an adult.

Time to stop worrying about the smallest amount of friction from my parents when what I want for my life is clear.

I click over to my texts and hit her name to call on one of her message chains.

“Hey sweetie, good morning.” Her voice is a little croaky. Oh shoot, it’s only seven thirty there.

“Is it too early to call?”

“Not for you. How are you?”

“All is well. I do want to talk to you about something, though.”

My tone is serious, and I hear her place her coffee mug on the counter. “Of course. What’s going on?”

“I—I’ve made a decision. I don’t want you to be mad…but I’m going to withdraw my applications.”

“Well—”

“I know, I know. We had a plan for how to handle them this year. The thing is, I don’t want to start med school yet. I want to push forward on my soccer career. And I—” My voice cracks.

“Honey…”

The corners of my eyes are wet. “I don’t think I can do it all. School, applications, soccer. I’m already behind other players my age.”

“You sacrificed to go to school, but it was the right thing to do. I don’t think you’ll regret it.” Her tone is gentle.

“I probably won’t. I need to do this for myself. To clear some space. Not feel like I’m drowning. And to give playing pro my full effort next year.”

She’s quiet for a second. “I think that’s a fine decision. I—I guess I didn’t really think about the toll all of this would take on you. You should be enjoying life too, by the way. Let’s make time for that.”

I laugh softly, wiping away the tears. “I am, Mom. Promise.”

Another few seconds of quiet passes before she speaks again. “Good. You know we have a couple of amazing young doctors at the hospital who took several years in between college and medical school. They’d probably talk to you when you’re ready.”

“Sounds great.”

We talk a little longer before I mention I need to call Dad too.

Although I’m less worried about this call. For good reason, since he reacts with excitement.