Ch. 8: A Disappointment

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I was still dwelling on the break up the Saturday after it happened as I sat down for dinner. After over a year, to think she could just cut it off? When I needed and appreciated her most? Her words still left an ache in my chest.

I pulled out the chair and set my crutches on the floor. My mom and Tyler gave me a smile while my dad focused on his food.

He doesn't talk about football with me anymore, but he does with Tyler. Of course he would still greet me and say the usual "How was school?", but other than that he hasn't had much to say to me since the Brigfield game.

The dinner table was oddly silent, so I decided to start some type of conversation.

"You think Bama's gonna win tonight?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? They've got nothing on Oklahoma." Tyler contributed with a smirk.

"Dude you play D II, you've been following the wrong division to know what you're talking about." I joked.

"Might I remind you you're at a high school level still?" We both laughed.

My mom raised her eyebrows and turned to my dad. "I assume you would like to weigh in?"

"No comment." He said not even looking up.

"Bill. Your son is trying to strike up a conversation. You two have barely talked in the past two weeks, the least you can do is act interested."

"What is there to say, Jen? When I talk about football he gets depressed. What, you want me to say 'I'm sorry son, it's okay son' until his leg heals?"

"This wasn't my fault, dad." I intervened growing angry. I know this is nothing new, but they way he was wording his sentences really got to me.

"Is that what your Coach told you to think?" His look turned to ice. My mom glared at him while my brother dropped his fork in complete awe that he would say such a thing.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" My mom challenged.

"He should've seen that cornerback. He should've watched the ball and the defense. If he would've used his head during a game for once we wouldn't be in this situation."

"There's nothing I can do." I mumbled glaring at the salt shaker on the table.

"Something's are unavoidable, Dad." Tyler's spit nails at him when he spoke.

"Everything's avoidable when you're thinking. You can't just go out there and play Samuel, not when there are risks like this."

"There's nothing I can do." My voice grew in intensity and volume.

"Excuses don't make it better. I thought you were better than excuses. You're not gettin' anywhere with that attitude."

"It's not an excuse, it's the truth." Tyler's face grew increasingly red.

"I honestly thought Gary Hepford would be the starter. I was shocked when you told me you got the position. I guess it would've happened sooner or later."

"Whose side are you on?!" I said banging my fist against the table. That was it, I had cracked. "You know all you do and all you've ever done was remind me I'm no good. Do you have any idea that's no way to treat your son?! I work my ass off and try my best and if that's not good enough then don't even bother coming to my games anymore! Even next year! And I'm not apologizing for what happened no matter how many times you say it's my fault cause maybe I wanted to be out for just one year so you can appreciate the shit I do just to make you proud. Guess not though." I could tell my face was red as I ranted. My palms were sweaty and my heartbeat pounded in my ears.

Gathering any composure I had, I turned to my mom, "May I please be excused?" She barely nodded with her hand over her mouth and water in her eyes.

I picked up my crutches and left the kitchen refusing to look at my dad. I honestly didn't care if he hated me now, at least I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

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