That Pivotal Moment

Chapter 9

Sitting outside the entrance to the hospital, I was finally enjoying the fresh air. I was waiting for Brad to pick me up. My mom volunteered but I didn't want her to know I was going to talk to my dad. I had no idea what I was going to say to him. No idea where to begin. But I couldn't keep this to myself anymore and to be honest, he was acting like a child.

I don't think he's really seeing what's important here. Yes, this injury has taken away my dad's dream. But I missed tons of school with being in the hospital. It was nearly the middle of November. It was going to be a bitch to try and catch up. I have the guys to deal with at school and, most importantly, my injury could have been a lot worse. The doctor said my leg needs to stay in the brace for a few more weeks and to stay on crutches at least one more week. I was counting the days.

Wanting to take my mind to a better place, I pictured her face in my mind again. I haven't heard from her or Alex since the other day. Being in a hospital there isn't much to do except think. And I have been thinking a lot about a her. Missing her. More than I understood or liked, to be honest. A part of me liked what I was starting to feel for her and another part of me felt differently.

Brad pulled up, pulling me back to the present. He got out to help me with my bags with a cheesy grin on his face.

"Hey, Sir Limps A Lot! How ya feeling?"

"Nice, Brad. Hold these crutches for me, will you?"

He laid them in the back seat as I got in his 2010 black Ford F-150. Brad's parents had money, but they weren't the stuck-up type and that's one reason I liked their family so much. Brad could have had any car he wanted, and he picked a used, almost busted up, pathfinder that was nearly ten years old.

"Hey, man. Can you stop by the sawmill?"

He glanced from the road to me before asking, "You sure that's a good idea, Hayden?"

I filled Brad in on everything that happened with my dad. He admitted he wasn't surprised, but he felt for me and my mom. "I need to talk to him."

Brad let out a low whistle. "Dude, you got some big cojones. I'll be in the getaway car."

I gave him a disgusted look. "Brad, he's not going to hurt me. And stop saying cojones. One, you're not Spanish. Two, it's disturbing."

"I'm just saying. Remember when your dad caught you in your room with those two cheerleaders? He. Flipped. Shit."

I thought about how I was last year. In love with the idea of football, chasing after girls, drinking and smoking. None of that seemed to matter anymore. I didn't want multiple girls in my bed. I wanted one. That's the other part that was freaking me out. Besides, she seemed to be beyond my reach.

We pulled up outside the sawmill and Brad looked at me pitifully. "Good luck, bro."

He reached in the back seat and grabbed my crutches as I got out of the car. I put them under my arms, shut the door and started walking to the front. It was pretty modernized. It was big and painted white on the outside. Across the top read: Sandersville Sawmill. Mostly everyone here knew me since they worked under my grandfather before my dad. Some smiled and waved, some wished me well and there were those few that looked like I was walking to meet my maker. Maybe I was.

When I got to the front door, Tommy, one of the worker's stopped me. "Hey, Hayden. You just missed your dad. Said he had to go get some supplies before going home."

Shit. I would have to go to the hotel. Luckily, our town was pretty small and there was one hotel in the area.

"Thanks, Tommy. Take care."