Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“ O ur last drill is a two-touch passing. Let’s go. Beckett, you’re up first,” Coach calls out.
I position myself near the center and receive a sharp pass from Ryan. My left foot absorbs the impact, and I quickly send the ball to Harrison on my right, who passes it back without hesitation. The rhythm picks up as teammates rush forward, calling for the ball.
“Come on, stay focused!” Coach claps.
Football boots pounding the grass, heavy breaths, and sharp kicks fill the air. I sprint to intercept the ball, welcoming the burn in my legs. One more pass, one more run. When the shrill whistle finally echoes across the field, a collective sigh of relief spreads through the team.
“Good work today,” Coach shouts. “Hydrate, stretch, and get plenty of rest ahead of tomorrow’s match.”
Harrison jogs over and claps me on the shoulder. “Party at Hornby’s tonight. Are you coming?”
I wipe my face with my football shirt and grab my water bottle, bumping knuckles with one of my teammates on his way past. Swigging the water, I shake my head. “Not tonight.”
Harrison puts his hands on his hips, still catching his breath. “Are you sure? You’ll miss out on an epic party.”
“I’m sure.”
We set off toward the changing rooms. A group of girls wait outside, wearing next to nothing in this chilly weather. I can’t wait to get out of here. If I’m being honest, I’m not in a good headspace these days. Harrison and Ryan invite me to parties, but I don’t have it in me to pretend anymore. Pretend I’ve moved on.
The last time I tagged along to one of their parties, I had to peel the chicks off me.
Thankfully, Amy has backed off, so there’s a positive.
Harrison pulls me to a stop. “You can’t keep living like this, bro.”
“He’s right,” Ryan says, catching up to us. “When was the last time you hung out with us.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he snaps his fingers shut in a ‘be quiet’ move.
“Dude, I love you, but you’re boring as fuck these days. Arkin wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
“Did you just say you love me?” I pull a face.
Harrison chuckles, stealing the water bottle off me and inhaling the last of it.
Ryan ruffles my sweaty hair on his way into the changing room. “Of course I love you, man. We’re best buds.”
Tossing the water bottle into the rubbish bin inside the doors, Harrison says, “Just roll with it.”
We always do. Ryan has always been a bit different, in a good way, of course. While he’s quirky, he’s also loyal.
Two steps into the changing room, he throws his hands up and shouts, “PARTY AT HORNBY’S TONIGHT!”
The rest of the room explodes in cheers, and I wish I could join in with the excitement. For a beat, I wonder if maybe I am broken. How long will I feel like this? How long will I look over my shoulder and expect to see Arkin? Will I ever accept that he’s gone?
As I take a seat on the bench to change, I discreetly watch my teammates undress.
Clothes hit the floor. None of the guys are self-conscious about their bodies in the least, and as I eye up their toned physiques, I wonder if I’ll ever be sexually attracted to another man again. The centre-back, Gabriel, is good-looking, with brown skin, hazel eyes and full lips.
Even so, when he turns around and offers the room a full view of his flaccid but impressive cock, I look away because he’s not who I want.
I don’t want anyone but Arkin, not even for a quick release, and that’s a sobering thought. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I smile weakly at Harrison when he pats me on the shoulder on his way to the showers.
I’ll be okay.
After a quick shower, I exit the changing rooms with Harrison and Ryan.
“Isn’t that your dad?” Ryan asks as we head to the parking lot.
Distracted, I look up from my phone to see my dad waiting in his SUV. What the hell is he doing here? A rush of anger propels my feet forward, and I pocket my phone on my way over. When he spots me, Dad leans over to open the passenger door.
I pop my head inside. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Yes, our relationship has not yet recovered. Mum has tried plenty of times over the last couple of months to act as a middleman, but I won’t give him the time of day anymore. As far as I’m concerned, he’s no one.
“Get in, Zachary,” he says now, sounding tired.
I glance behind me. Harrison and Ryan toss their sports bags into the boot. There’s still time for me to catch up if I leave now. I’m half tempted—okay, very tempted—to tell my dad to screw himself, then go to that party with my friends. For a long moment, I contemplate it. Contemplate if I have it in me to pretend for a full evening that I’m having a good time. There will be girls there. Girls in short dresses who’ll try to shove their tongue down my throat.
A cold sweat breaks out on my back, and I quickly slide into the passenger seat. Dad clears his throat as I toss my bag into the backseat, but he says nothing else as he drives us out of the parking lot.
The roads are quiet at this time of the day now that rush hour is over. Dad drums his thumbs on the wheel, and I almost wish he would just spit out whatever bullshit he has to say. At this point, I don’t care anymore.
Ten minutes later, I realize we’re not heading home. “Look, Dad, whatever bonding session you think this is, just drop it. Take me home.”
“No, not until I’ve said my piece.” He sighs, drumming his thumbs again. “I’ve not been a good father to you. Even after everything that happened, I didn’t ask you how you were.”
I feel my jaw pulsing. We’re turning into the local park now. Dad pulls into one of the empty spots and cuts the engine.
We sit in silence for a moment. Tense silence. The kind of silence I would rather not be around.
Dad drops his hands from the steering wheel. “How are you, Zachary?”
“How am I?” I almost choke on the words. Is he for real? “I’m fucking fantastic. Never been better.” I’m about to say more, but my father’s broken expression gives me pause.
“How are you?” he asks again.
I swallow thickly. “Not good.”
A small nod, followed by another regretful sigh. I don’t know what to say.
For what feels like an eternity, Dad stares out the windscreen. Then he says, “You love him?”
I don’t hesitate. “I do.”
Dad looks at me then, really looks at me before he reaches into his coat pocket to remove a folded-up piece of paper, which he holds out for me to take. Confused, I accept it.
“It’s Arkin’s contact details,” Dad says as I unfold it.
I whip my head up, my heart slamming violently against my ribcage.
“I made some calls. Now you can contact him if you want.”
For the first time since Arkin left, something like hope flickers inside me.
On the note, in my father’s cursive handwriting, is Arkin’s home address… and an email.
“I’m not good with words, son. But for what it’s worth, I’m terribly sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, and I shouldn’t have said those horrible things.” He steadies his shaking voice. “All I have ever wanted for you is to be happy.”
My vision blurs with tears, and I look up from the note. Dad sniffles, jerking his chin to the information. “I’m sorry it took me this long. I hope you reach out to him. He’s a good lad.”
Tears spill over, and I quickly wipe them away. “I don’t think I can.”
Dad stills. “Why not?”
After carefully folding the note, I slide it into my pocket. “I haven’t moved houses, Dad. I’ve been here all this time. Arkin could have contacted me by now if he wanted to, but he hasn’t.”
My father remains silent. The silence soon stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable for once.
“Mum once told me trust in Arkin and the love that we shared. She said that he’ll come back to me when the time is right.”
“Your mum said that?” Dad smiles warmly. When I nod, he chuckles softly. “She’s a wise woman.”
“I think it’s time I trust in us.”
Dad studies me. “Trust goes a long way.”
I try to smile but it’s weak. To my surprise, the anger and bitterness I’ve felt toward my father all these months is absent. It’s nice to be here with him. “You’re not disappointed in me?”
“Not in the slightest. Honestly, I’m proud of you.”
I feel my chin wobble. Fuck. Why is it so hard to be vulnerable right now. I never thought Dad would accept me for me. Never in a million years thought he’d look at me with pride again. Yes, I could hold on to the anger and bitterness for longer and not give in too easily, but I’m tired. I don’t want to be angry anymore.
He squeezes my shoulder. “How are you, son?”
More tears spill down my cheeks, even as I smile. “I’m better now.”
He pulls me in for a hug, and it’s awkward because of the cramped space, but it’s easily the best hug of my life.
After a few minutes, we disentangle, and he opens the car door. “I know it’s a Friday night and you probably have plans with your friends?—”
“I don’t.”
Dad pauses, observing me over his shoulder, and I swear I see his eyes misting up before he exits the car and shuts the door.
Curious, I join him, watching him unload paint buckets from the boot. “Where are we going?”
He hands me one to carry and a brush, then shuts the trunk and heads toward the park entrance. “Volunteer work, son.”
The gravel crunches underfoot as we enter through the creaky gate. A group of volunteers from church have gathered around the community garden, their hands busy with soil and plants. Nearby, others repair a broken playground fence.
“Ready to paint benches?” Dad looks at me expectantly.
How is this my life? It’s Friday. My friends are getting drunk and fucking women.
For once, though, I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than here, with my dad, repairing more than just benches.