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“That’s the plan, son,” Dad said sternly. “From there, we’ll move forward with rehabilitation.”
“The Academy?” I swallowed deeply. “Did Coach Dennehy contact you?”
“They are furious with you,” Dad replied, not mincing his words. “Which is to be expected when the number-one-ranked center in the country almost ends his career before his eighteenth birthday.”
I groaned. “Christ, don’t say it like that.”
“The truth is always better than a lie,” he shot back with a knowing smile. “More painful, but much more beneficial in the long run.”
“You’re a lawyer,” I huffed. “You’re paid a fucking fortune to lie.”
“Not to you,” Dad replied with a grin. “You get my services free of charge and one hundred percent truthful.” Smirking, he added, “If you want someone to mollify you, then you should have this talk with your mother.”
“Yeah, well,” I mumbled. “You could soften the edges a bit, Da. This stings.”
“Stings will toughen you up,” he told me. “There’s a big bad world out there, son. It’s all sharp edges.”
“What about my Academy contract?” I dared to ask.
“Still very much in effect.”
I exhaled a huge sigh of relief.
“Don’t be surprised,” Dad mused. “You are brilliant. A careless, headstrong, suicidal idiot with a brilliant mind for rugby and the talent to take you to whatever level you wish to go to. They know this, Johnny. They won’t let you go.”
When he told me this, I knew it wasn’t bullshit. He wouldn’t bullshit me.
“Do you think I’ll make it, Da?” I asked then, staring at my father’s face. “Do you think I can do it?”
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.
My heart fluttered.
“Really?”
My father nodded. “Yes, Johnny. Really.”
With those words, I felt a small root of hope shoot up inside of me.
I could pull this back from the edge. I could do it. My dad thought I could do it.
“But you are relieved of duties,” Dad added.
I sighed heavily. “Expected.”
“And Coach Dennehy will be having a heated conversation with you.”
I grimaced. “Also expected.”
“And you will need to pass three separate evaluations before you step foot on a pitch again, be it Academy, club, or school rugby,” he chimed. “And those feet are to stay firmly off the grass until May.”
“Lovely.” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “Jesus.”
“Don’t panic,” he said calmly. “You know the plan. It’s there. Right in front of you. Part of getting back on the squad is healing. Resting your body right now is as crucial as any other workout or rugby commitment.”
I got that.
“It just sucks,” I muttered.
