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HOLDEN
My dad yawns as he approaches. His shirt is on inside out and he’s clutching the mug of steaming coffee like it’s something precious.
When he’s gone on a route, his sleep schedule is discombobulated. Returning home can involve a time change as well. Still, he does his best to be up when me and Sydney are, even if it means less sleep for him.
This is extreme, though. For both of us. I tossed and turned for an hour before getting out of bed and coming out to the driveway right as the sun rose.
“What’s your read on this Graham guy?” he asks, then covers a yawn.
I grin as I dribble. “Sydney told you about him, huh?”
Last night, I went to Finn’s place for an early celebration of Mark’s eighteenth. I was wondering if Sydney might say anything when I was gone.
I’m not surprised, really. She’s always been an open book with our dad. I’m the kid who keeps secrets.
My dad nods, then grimaces. “Sydney invited him over tonight.”
“Graham is a good guy. A little nerdy, but nice.”
He muffles his guffaw, but I don’t miss it. It feels good, laughing with my dad out in the driveway. He’s home for a little over a week. While I appreciate the freedom of having no parental supervision sometimes, I wish he was home for longer.
“What about you? Any girls catch your eye?”
My eyes flick across the street. It’s involuntary. Startling. I don’t think my dad notices, but internally, I’m reeling.
I’ve had sex with Cassia twice.
I’ve known her for over a decade.
Neither entirely explains how she’s become a pivotal part of my world. Why she’s the person I want to share good news with. Who makes bad moments feel better.
“I’m focused on basketball,” I say instead.
It’s true. I’ve made basketball a priority because it makes me happy. But it’s gained a new importance this year, a fresh elevation.
“I spoke to Larry last week,” my dad says. “Starting in May, I’ll be cutting back. Shorter routes and longer breaks.”
“You don’t have to do that, Dad. Chances are, I won’t get a scholarship. And even if I do, I don’t have to take it.”
“It wasn’t a question, Holden. You’re going to college, scholarship or not. We’ll figure it out. That’s part of being a parent—ensuring your kids have more opportunities than you did. It’s an experience I want you to have.”
I don’t answer right away. We’re dancing close to a topic we don’t discuss—my mom.
She got pregnant with me in high school, then had Sydney just eleven months after I was born. I wasn’t planned, and I’m pretty sure Sydney wasn’t either. Our existence changed their lives. For the worse, even though I’m sure my dad would say for the better. He’s done his best to compensate for our mom walking away, making do with the limited opportunities a lack ofa college degree allows and working himself to the bone for the shipping company he still delivers for.
It’s a large part of why Sydney and I have always gone out of our way to assure him we’re fine with his long absences. And I know it’s why my dad is so insistent on me going to college, even though it would make things easier for him and Sydney if I didn’t.
“I talked to a scout after the Covington game,” I state. “He said they might make an offer.”
My dad looks elated. “Which school?”
“Richmond.”
“That’s amazing, Holden. Of course, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll just be their loss.”
Something warm and soft swells in my chest. I’m not used to having these sorts of conversations with my dad. Usually, our discussions are a predictable back and forth. Him asking about my grades and groceries. Reminding me when Aunt Catherine is stopping by to spend a night with us. It’s rare to delve deeper.
“Were you in love with Lana?” I haven’t called her Mom since the day she left.
