29
Dune had talked Will into giving him his keys so he could get the car while he unpacked the groceries. He’d come back with all the leftovers from the lunch his mom had made and with a full tank of gas in Will’s car. The amount that Dune was doing for him didn’t sit right. He wasn’t doing anything in return, and he didn’t feel as though he’d done anything to deserve Dune treating him this nicely.
At the training on Saturday, Will put in more effort to talk and get to know the team, but driving home he was so exhausted he had to pull over a few times. The sky was dark, and rain was pouring down when he pulled into the house. Mom’s car was parked next to the van. He looked in the windows and saw her figure in the kitchen. He checked his phone.
Leah: Just a heads up, Mom’s going home to talk to you. She looked angry.
What had he done now? Dragging his feet, Will made his way into the house. Raised voices greeted him. He tried to gather himself to prepare for whatever was waiting for him, but he didn’t know how to do that. He felt shaky as he went into the kitchen. “Hey,” he greeted. Mom was putting away dishes, practically throwing them into the cupboards. Dad was standing next to the fridge watching Mom like she was a rat scuttling around on the ground. They both turned to him.
“Will,” Mom scowled at him. “What on earth are you thinking ?”
Will looked to his dad for help. What was she angry about? But his dad made himself busy rooting around in the fridge, muttering curses under his breath. “What am I thinking about what, Mo—" He caught himself. “Maddy?”
“You joined another team?” She came over to him. “You already have sports three days a week, and now you’ve added two more days on top of that? That only leaves you two nights a week to study, and I know that isn’t nearly enough for you.”
Will put his hands into his pockets. “It’s the national team.”
“I don’t care what team it is,” she said, her face filled with frustration. “You need to focus on getting through school this year and getting good enough grades for college. You need to quit immediately.”
He took in a shaky breath and clenched his fists. Her hair was up in a tight bun, and she looked the same as she had a few weeks ago. Their first conversation in almost a month was about him quitting volleyball? “Mom, I’ll get a sports recommendation to any college I want if I play with them. That makes up for the lost study time.”
“No college will want a kid with failing grades just because they can kick a ball around.” She paced in front of him. Her arms crossing and uncrossing as if she was so angry she needed to keep moving.
“You don’t kick the ball in volleyball.”
“Don’t,” she warned.
Dad had taken a seat at the kitchen table and was watching them talk with his arm strung over the back of a chair. He didn’t seem concerned with anything they were saying. It was a rare moment where Will would have liked his dad to join in the conversation.
Abruptly, Mom stopped and faced him.
“You need to get your head on straight and take this seriously. Your grades are bad enough as it is. What do you think will happen if you keep up all the sports?” She looked at him earnestly as if she really was looking out for his best interests. After leaving and cancelling his card, she came back to take care of him? He was confused. The more he tried to figure her actions out, the more his head got muddled.
“I don’t know what will happen, but it’s not like I’ll be smart enough to get in anywhere if I rely on my grades,” Will reasoned.
“If you actually tried, you would be able to. With sports?” She shook her head. “You’re not going to end up anywhere. What if the team decides they don’t want you? What if you have a few bad matches in a row and they drop you? What if you get injured? They won’t put you through college if you can’t play with them anymore.”
Will listened to her list things that could go wrong if he relied on a sports recommendation, and he hated that he couldn’t disagree with her about it. His throat tightened. He was well behind in everything at school, and he knew he couldn’t catch up. But what if he banked everything on getting that recommendation and then broke his leg? “I’m good at it,” he said. “It’s the only thing I’m really, really good at.”
Her expression softened. “I know you are sweetie. But you're going to throw your life away if keep this up and I can’t just watch that happen.”
Will’s fingernails dug into his palms. His voice deserted him.
“No more playing with that team,” she continued in a gentle, sweet voice. “Focus on getting yourself through school, and you can play volleyball when you go to college. As a hobby.”
Dad snorted. The softness disappeared from her face as she turned to him. “What?”
“He isn’t quitting,” Dad stated. “He’s going to be playing against other countries in that team. He’s going to represent this country on the big stage.”
“You want him to throw away his future so you have something to boast about to your drinking buddies?” Mom demanded.
Will leaned against the doorway for support. He didn’t want to give up volleyball. But what if Mom was right? What if he could keep his head down and study for the next few months and take it up again after the leaving cert?
“Sport is his future,” Dad replied promptly. “Even if it wasn’t volleyball, it’d be soccer. And if it wasn’t soccer, it would be a different sport. Rugby, or running maybe?”
“Running?” Mom repeated, incredulous.
“He’s the fastest sprinter at school.”
“As if that matters.”
His dad slammed his palm onto the table. The fruit bowl in the center bounced up. “It does matter!” He looked furious as he faced Mom. So furious that Will straightened and edged closer to her, afraid that something bad would happen. But Mom didn’t share the same fear. She stared Dad down as he continued on. “Our son is exceptional at sport, and he’s going places. This team is only the start.”
“No, this team isn’t the start,” Mom snapped back. “Professional sportsmen in Ireland don’t get paid enough to even support themselves, so he can’t rely on his athletic abilities alone! And this team isn’t the start because he’s only seventeen and he doesn’t have my permission to join it.”
At that Will twitched. The consent forms technically asked for both his parents' signatures, but Nicolas had given him the okay with only a little explanation of the family situation. But what if Mom called and told him that Will wasn’t allowed to play with them? He couldn’t imagine Nicolas would just ignore her.
“Mom.” Will reached for her elbow, getting her attention. “I want to play.”
“No,” she said through a clenched jaw. “I’ve made my decision.”
“Please.”
“I won’t let you throw your future away like this.” Her voice was unyielding.
Will stepped closer, not giving up. “What if I quit football and the local volleyball team? That would free up even more time than before.”
“You’re just as bad as your father. You aren’t listening at all.” She pulled her elbow away from him. The way she regarded him was mean. And…what was in that look? Disgust? Disappointment?
A surge of anger went through Will. She left him. She cancelled his card. She told him not to call her “Mom,” and yet she’d come back just to take away something he loved? Something that could give him a future? Anger warmed the pit of his stomach and sent his nerves on high alert. He straightened his shoulders. “You’re the one who isn’t listening, Maddy.”
Maddy flinched. A jolt went through her entire body, and as if a switch had been flipped, her features twisted into a look of utter loathing.
Dad must have realised what would happen before it did because at the first scream and flying fist, he had his arm around her waist and was hauling her toward the front door. Will stood in the kitchen, rubbing under his eye, wondering if that was going to bruise, all the while listening to the horrible names she screamed at him. The front door slammed shut, but it was easy to hear them shouting at each other. Dad was telling her to get lost and not come back.
Will gripped the edge of the table and ducked his head down. He focused on taking in steady and even breaths. He murmured to himself, “Don’t. Come on, Will. Keep it down.” The nausea in his stomach grew and grew. He broke away from the table and darted into the bathroom. The healthy shake that Vinny had given him was thrown back up. Now devoid of energy, he went about cleaning himself up.
Will went back into the kitchen where his dad was searching through the cupboards.
“I’m going to put on a burger and chips,” he said as Will came in. “Do you want some?”
Will knew himself enough to know nothing else that evening would stay down. “I’m good, thanks.” He hovered by the doorway, waiting to see if Dad would bring up what had just happened. But his dad went about making his dinner, not acknowledging that his son was just standing there, lost, staring at him. That wasn’t normal. Trying to hit him in an argument? That couldn’t be normal. But his dad wasn’t saying anything. He gave no hint that Mom’s fit of anger had been anything out of the ordinary.
“I’m going to bed,” Will eventually said.
“Night.” Dad waved him off over his shoulder, not even turning to look at him.
Will laid out on his back.
He stared at the ceiling and wondered if his mom would call Nicolas. If Will would show up for training tomorrow and he’d be told to leave. That it was over. That they didn’t want him. Most of him was horrified at that prospect, but there was a part of him that wasn’t, and that part wasn’t even small. He was exhausted. And the tired part of him wondered if it was worth the effort to fight for his position on the team at all.