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“I don’t know, kid,” says Charlie. “Miles came here. I wasn’t gonna turn him away, was I? Especially with the bruises and all.”
“Right, right. Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” More than words can say. They’ve got two children of their own. Granted, they’re both adults now, my age, living on their own and working, but still… “Can you keep him until I get back? Won’t be for another couple of hours.”
“Sure thing. I’ll give him something to eat, don’t worry.”
Dammit. “Listen, Charlie, I’ll pay—”
“No, that’s fine. Go work, or study, or train, or whatever it is you gotta do, kid. I’ve got this.”
Relieved, I start walking again. I used to have a bike, but I had to sell it to pay some bills. The wind’s picking up, blowing strands of hair in my eyes. I need a haircut, I think randomly, and new shoes, and above all Miles needs a new jacket, and Teo…
“Teo,” I bark into the phone, as I realize something. “If dad isn’t home, who’s looking after Teo?”
“I don’t know.” Charlie’s voice lowers. “Wait, you mean Teo’s home? I thought he was still at school.”
“He’s sick.” Again. I try to breathe through the worry. It’s not working. “Fuck. I’m on my way. Please, Charlie, can you—?”
“I’ll check on him.”
“Right. Thanks, man.”
Meanwhile, I call home. Nobody answers. Dammit.
Fuck the meeting. No time for that crap. I turn around and jog back to the bus stop. As I wait impatiently for the next bus to arrive, I call Coach West, who wanted to talk to me. He doesn’t pick up immediately, and I don’t know if I should just disconnect and not give a damn, when he answers.
“Jimmy West speaking.”
“Coach, it’s me. Dylan. Dylan Hayes.”
“Dylan. I’ve been expecting you. Are you here?”
“No, I…” The bus is approaching, and I move toward it. “Something came up. I can’t make it today.”
“Can’t make it? Dylan, this is important.” He sounds exasperated. “I hope you realize that if we don’t do something right now, any chance at finding another sports scholarship or any other funding is over. This is about your future. Don’t you care?”
A knot forms in my throat. “I do, and I really appreciate your interest in me, Coach.” I climb into the bus and flash my card to the driver, then wander to the back, searching for a free seat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Dylan. Do something about it.”
I slide into a seat, right next to a girl typing furiously on her touchscreen cell. “I will. Can I come by tomorrow?”
There’s a pause. I close my eyes and hold my breath. He’s given up on me, as I knew he would, eventually.
Not that I blame him. How long can you wait for someone to get their shit together? Things weren’t good when I started college, and even back then Teo wasn’t sick and Miles didn’t get beat up on his way home nine times out of ten, and Dad… Dad seemed to be holding it together.
Well, until the day he up and left, saying he’d stay with friends. Never gave an explanation as to why he abandoned us, just like Mom did so many years before.
I spent too many sleepless nights trying to figure it out. I guess staying in the same house where she used to live wasn’t helping. Maybe the sight of us reminded him too much of her.
Hell if I know. Thing is, he’s gone. He comes and goes, never staying long, and I don’t know what to make of his moods anymore.
“Come Friday morning,” Coach West is saying. “And you’d better take this seriously, Dylan. You’re a good kid, and you have a real talent in sports. Don’t let it all go to waste.”
I nod, my throat closing again, because nobody has said anything good about me in a while, and I guess I need to fucking hear it from time to time, like the sucker I am. Like it matters.
Like talking with Coach West can make a difference. I don’t have time for college, haven’t had from the start. It was all a foolish dream. I don’t have the money, the time or the energy for anything more than work and my brothers, and even that is getting to be too much lately.
I confirm the appointment nevertheless, disconnect and stare out the window at the clouds hanging over houses and buildings. The weather matches my mood. Hard to believe just a couple years ago I had so many dreams. Four years ago. Even after Mom left and Dad started sinking into depression, I thought I could do this. The sports scholarship was all but promised to me, my brothers were okay, I had my friends, and I had Tessa.
