“Is there something you need to tell us, son?”
All business, all the time. His dad’s no-nonsense tone made Linc all the more keen to be a jerk in reply, but he pressed down the urge to wisecrack.
“Hi, Lincoln. How are you, honey?”
“Hi, Mom, I’m good, thanks. How are you guys?”
“I asked you a question, Linc.”
Linc rubbed his eyes and sighed. He’d never heard his father talk to the girls the way he spoke to him. “You’ll have to be more specific, Dad.” He spat his words out with a bite. Rising to his father’s bait was never his smartest idea, but he was primed for an argument and, from his dad’s tone, it wouldn’t take much to get one.
“You got a letter here, from an art gallery.”
Linc’s pulse boomed in his ears, his chest tightened, and his already clammy body broke out in new prickles of sweat. He bolted to his feet, dragging his free hand through his hair while he clutched the phone against his ear.What the fuck?
“Oh yeah?”
“It says…” A page rustled against the speaker. “Congratulations on making it through the first two rounds. You have made it to the quarter finals.”
His dad’s voice droned in the background, while Linc’s brain scrambled to catch up. He had gotten through the first rounds. His heart attempted to soar but was rebutted all the way to his stomach by anxiety over the impending lecture.
“I’ll ask again. Do you have anything you’d like to tell us, Lincoln?”
Don’t be a dick. Don’t be a dick. Don’t be a dick.
“I entered some of my art into a competition. No big deal.”
Don’t be a dick. Don’t be a dick. Don’t be a dick.
Hands clapped on the other end of the line. “No big deal?” His mom’s excitement eased his anxiety. “Lincoln this is wonderful news, congratulations! I had no idea you were into art! The letter says something about an exhibition if you win—”
“I’m not going to win, Mom. I don’t even know why I put myself forward. I’m not good enough for an exhibition. I just—”
“I can tell youexactlywhy you put yourself forward.”
Linc winced at his dad’s tone.
“It’s that girl, isn’t it? Cleo… whatever her name is. Amelia told us you had a new girlfriend. She’s clearly filling your head with all this flowery bullshit.”
Every clipped word from his father’s mouth stoked the anger deep in the pit of Linc’s stomach.
His mother gasped. “That’s enough, Martin.”
“You’re damn right it’s enough. Lincoln, do we need to have yet another talk about what you’re at the U for? Do I need to remind you about keeping your head in the game and not screwing up your chances of making something of yourself?”
“No, Dad, you don’t. I knowexactlywhat you want from my time here.” Could you dislocate your eyeballs from rolling them too hard? Linc was close to finding out. That, or his teeth would turn to dust from all the clenching and grinding.
“Stop fucking around, and keep your head in the game.”
Fuck it.The growing inferno of anger clawed up his chest and burst from his mouth, unchecked. “Maybe I don’t want to keep my head in the game. Have you ever considered that, Dad? Have you, for one moment, ever stopped to think about whatImight want from my time here? Or from my life for that matter?”
“Lincoln…” His cold voice carried a warning.
Lincoln’s head said stop, but his heart raged on. He’d had it with the double standard in the Scott house. It was time to make his stand, draw his line in the sand. He was on a full ride to school. It wasn’t like his father could pull financial support and upend Linc’s life. He needed to let the words out that he’d been keeping inside for so long.
“No, Dad. I’m not you. I’m not NHL material; we both know that. I never have been. I’m good, but I’m notgreat.”
His dad grunted, and a small gasp escaped his mom on the other end of the phone.
