“You can’t really say no,”she signs to my dad. “You know that, right? When he turns eighteen in the spring, he can do whatever he wants. And Booker’s so good on skates, they’ll be lucky to get him. With the offer he got from the school, he doesn’t even need your permission to go.”
“Fallon,”my dad says, looking right at her so she's forced to read his lips. “This conversation has nothing to do with you. Worry about your own schooling, particularly your grade in Earth Science, and leave the parenting to your mother and me.”
Fallon clenches her fists,so I lay a calming hand on her shoulder as she sits back down next to me. I appreciate the way she stands up for me. It’s like she’s the older sibling sometimes. But she’s right—my parents can’t really control this decision. I don’t turn eighteen until March, but I can probably sign my acceptance before then. And even if I’m forced to wait, what’s the worst that could happen? Maybe I’d have to take out a loan or something? I don’t know, but part of me wants to figure it out.
The setof my father’s jaw tells me he recognizes the truth in Fallon’s words too. He won’t admit it—that’s not who Grant Zabek is. But he’s rattled; I can tell.
My mom refillsmy water glass and smiles sweetly. “Booker, think about this rationally, dear. Do you really want to be that far from home? Your sisters count on you so much, and if you’re a flight away, well, you certainly won’t be able to come home for Emmy’s recitals or meet up with Fallon for coffee.”
Ouch.Way to hit me where it hurts, Mom. I do feel guilty for leaving them but playing for a great school is the next step in my future. My dream is to play in the NHL, and I need Meridian to get there.
“Your mother is right,”Dad says, and this is a sure sign he’s manipulating me. He never admits anyone else is right, especially mom. “You’d abandon your sisters for a few years of college hockey? That’s not the son we raised. Family always comes first.”
“That’swhy Bainbridge is the perfect choice,” Mom says. “You’ll be close to home. And I think they have a fine hockey program, especially if you play for them.”
“Thanks,Mom, but if I want to go pro someday…”
My dad shakes his head.“Pro hockey is not an option, Booker. We’ve talked about this before. I thought you understood, but somehow, you’ve gotten it into your head that playing pro is the path for you. Just look at the news, son. Athletes make more money than they know what to do with. They squander it on vacations and houses and ungodly pursuits. That is not the kind of life we want you to lead. That is not what the Lord has in store for you, Booker. A life of drugs and prostitutes? Fathering children from multiple women?”
His words are so ridiculous,so far-fetched that I’m not sure how to respond. But he’s not finished yet.
“And that’sto say nothing of the danger. CTE is real, Booker, and it’s a threat to your safety. One too many nasty hits is all it takes.”
“So,what? I can’t even go to college because I could get a concussion and sleep with a prostitute?” The outburst is unlike me, but I can’t hold back.
“Booker,”my father corrects. “That’s quite enough.”
“Of course,you’ll go to college,” Mom soothes, clearing everyone’s plates. “You’ll go to Bainbridge. You can play hockey there and—”
My father looks at her,and for a moment, I’m not quite sure how this is going to go.
My father turnshis gaze to me and takes a breath. “You’ll go to Bainbridge. You can play hockey there,” he says, “on one condition: you will not pursue a pro career. You will not enter the draft or seek free agency after graduation. Is that understood?”
And just like that,my dream of playing at Meridian is off the table. I nod because I have no recourse. “Yes, sir,” I tell him.
* * *
Two hours later,I’m walking across the neighborhood to Whit’s house. My mom took Em to ballet and Dad is at a church council meeting. I asked Fallon to come along, and though she loves my boys, she loves having the house all to herself a little more.
I knockand am greeted by Miss Kristy, Whit’s mom and my honorary aunt. Once upon a time, she and my mom were best friends. They’re still close, but the more my mom drinks the Kool-Aid my dad serves, the less she sees of her friends.
“Hi, sweetie,”Kristy Whitman says, offering me a hug. “Knox and Whit are in the game room. I’d offer you snacks, but the boys have them all. If you hurry, you can still get some.”
“Thanks,”I say, though I’m in season so the only snack I’ll have tonight is the protein bar in my pocket. I head downstairs where Knox is sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of chips on one leg and a container of dip on the other. Whit’s across the room, playing darts.
“Book!How goes it? Happy to be a Meridian Golden Hawk?”
“I’m not going,”I say, before flopping onto the couch across from Knox.
“Wait, what?”Whit asks, turning around.
“I can’t go,”I tell them.
“Dude,yeah, you can. You just got accepted today. What are you talking about?” Knox is peppering me with questions while Whit’s pulling out his phone. Soon, Ty’s face appears on the screen of Whit’s iPad.
“Booker, what’s going on?”
I lookat my three best friends, two right in front of me, one on the screen. “My dad put his foot down. He doesn’t want me going that far, and he definitely doesn’t want me to play professionally. It was a whole messy thing. Fallon got upset and my mom sided with him, of course.”
