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Myalarmclockgoesoff and my eyes snap open. I reach over, grabbing my phone and promptly press the snooze button. My body flops back on the bed. It’s the first day of school—correction, grad school. I’m half tempted to shut my eyes and take the ten minutes of extra sleep, but this is my first day, and I need to start off on the right foot. I’ve never taken school seriously, because I always thought I would get into the NFL and make a name for myself.
Well. I did get into the NFL and I kinda made a name for myself—as the first rookie who left without finishing his contract, and fucked up more passes than any other first timer. That’s definitely going to hurt for the first few years. I’m only hoping no one recognizes me, or cares. However, Aurora University is a big sports school. I’m sure I will run into at least a few football fans today. Time will only tell.
I groan while rolling out of bed, landing on my feet, which take me to my dresser. My old childhood bedroom stares back at me. The walls are covered in Denver Bronco posters. My old Aurora University jersey is hung up above my dresser. Pictures of my mom cover the top. I smile at her, whispering a soft, “Good morning, Mom.”
I want to live with Rachel and the bros in our old apartment, but right now there isn’t space. I would share a room with Lucas, but he only got back his room from having to share it with Alex last summer, and I suspect Lucas is done having a roommate in such a small living space. Seth doesn’t share, and his room is the smallest of all the rooms, and Alex is too much of a morning person. Rachel offered, but I didn’t think it would be fair, and living in the living room was out of the question.
So, instead, I moved back in with my dad, who has been shocked about my decision to quit and asking me over and over again if it was the right career move. Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t know anything. The only thing I do know, is that drinking myself silly is bad and not having a proper support system is even worse. So far, I think this is the best route for me, but only time will tell. Who knows if I will actually enjoy being a high school gym teacher, let alone football coach? All I know, is I get to be near Rachel and the bros again.
After dressing, I rush down the stairs, grabbing my backpack from the coatrack and slinging it over one shoulder before making my way into the kitchen. Dad is already there, his back facing me as he waits for the coffee to finish brewing. A plate of two eggs and toast awaits me in my usual spot. It reminds me of Mom, when she would have breakfast waiting for me before school and my heart swells at the memory.
“This for me?” I ask while taking a slice of toast and shove it into my mouth.
“Yep,” Dad says without turning around, his tone tense. He’s gripping the counter and I know another argument is about to transpire. I don’t have time for this. I already explained him my plan at least ten times. It’s a good plan. He doesn’t even have to pay anything. I have enough money saved up to pay for my first year and if I work hard, I can get my teaching license in two years, which means I won’t have a mountain of debt to pay off. I’ve thought it through. Why can’t he just accept it?
“Hunter,” Dad says while glancing over his shoulder, giving me the same look he used to give when I got a bad grade, or I came home from a party drunk. “I think we need to talk. Again.”
I groan. “Dad, no. I’m done talking.”
“I don’t think you’re thinking this through properly.”
My mouth gapes open and Dad grimaces at the half-eaten food he sees. “I think I have,” I say after swallowing, no longer hungry. “I told you my plans. I’m not even taking a gap year.”
“I know, I know,” Dad says while raising his hands as if he’s worried I’m about to yell. Again.
He’s been on my case ever since I returned from Chicago. He didn’t believe me at first when I told him I quit the Bears, but when I sold the apartment and moved everything back home, he realized I was being serious. Everything happened so quickly. One minute, I was living in Chicago, the next I was packing up and moving back home. Dad was absolutely flabbergasted. I suppose I was, a bit, too. I didn’t think it would be so easy, but apparently Aurora was happy to accept me into their program with my C average GPA, and Fitness Express was so happy to have an old Aurora quarterback working for them, they didn’t even ask me what happened at my old job. Surprisingly.
Thankfully, when Rachel was over for Christmas, the arguing stopped and we could pretend to be a normal family again. I really wish she could be here now, or I could be in the bro-house. It kinda sucks living with my dad again, like I failed, but Dr. Forrester always told me to take baby steps. That’s exactly what I am doing now.
“It’s great you’re starting school and you have a job,” Dad begins. “But your dream has always been to play in the NFL. Did anything happen?”
I blink back at him, shocked he’s asked something different for once rather than going on and on about teacher salaries and bills. “Did something happen?” I repeat.
“Yeah. You quit so suddenly. It makes me wonder if you weren’t connecting with the team. Or the coach was hounding you.” He rubs his chin like he’s some sort of detective who’s finally putting the pieces together. “If that was the case, you could have requested for a transfer. I’m sure the Broncos or the Colts would have taken you.”
I scoff. Like I would ever play for the Colts. I barely wanted to play for the Bears. “No,” I say with a shake of my head. “I think I made the right choice. This way I can be home, be with family and friends. I need a support system, Dad. Dreams change.”
“But were you having problems with your team?”
I shrug. “I suppose so, but I don’t think it was necessarily all their fault. I was partly to blame.”
“Were you drinking?”
Dad holds my stare, looking at me seriously as if he can read everything I’m holding inside me right now. I really want to yell at him, tell him to stop prying, that I am making the right choice. It’s the questioning that I hate. And he knows, deep down, the drinking is exactly the reason why I’ve returned home. I think he’s always known I’ve had a little issue with my sobriety. I was getting trashed almost every night in high school. It’s surprising Aurora accepted me back then, but I was a pretty good quarterback.
“I should get going,” I say, refusing to answer his question. I can’t talk about this now. I need to get to class and focus. “I don’t want to be late on the first day.”
“Okay,” I hear Dad murmur while I stalk towards the front door, hoping one of these days he understands why I made the decision to leave.
***
If I can’t get a job as a gym teacher, I’d hopefully be working at Fitness Express for the rest of my days. The gym is small, but friendly. I know almost everyone who comes in and the job is easy: mostly returning dumbbells, wiping down machines, checking people in, and answering any of their questions. I’ve been working out here ever since I was a Freshman. I know this place like the back of my hand.
Another great feature of the job, is that I get to work out on the machines whenever there’s free time. I can stay in shape while getting paid. During winter break, it was amazing. No one was in so the place was completely dead.
“Hunter!” Amy calls from the entrance while I’m bent down, about to pick up some dumbbells someone forgot to return. “Do you think you can come to the front desk. There’s a line of people waiting to be checked in and I still have to finish with the bathrooms.”
“Sure,” I say while picking up the weights, returning them quickly before striding back to my place in the front.
