SEBASTIAN
Chapter Fifteen
Since kissing Tyler on the street corner and heading in the opposite direction, my life was a blur of conversation and frustration.
It had only been a few hours, but the mandatory stress injections were handed out on my first evening home.
We’d gone through the underwhelming report card, the rainbow-themed hockey team, and my terrible life choices regarding my future.
And the dinner hadn’t even been served yet.
My brothers were both present, as was my sister, Eryn, when Dad sat down at the head of the table and folded his arms on its edge. His thinning hair was paler than the dark brown I remembered from my childhood, but his bushy eyebrows were just as intimidating as ever.
I hated that fear was so clearly present in all I was feeling. Fear of awkward silences, fear of intimate questions, and fear of slipping in front of them.
This was as traditional a household as it could be. Dad looked at Eryn with a gentle smile. “Why don’t you help your mother in the kitchen, darling?” he suggested, his voice deep but rounded at the edges for his little girl.
Eryn, who was far from little, being a high school senior this year, nodded. “Of course, Dad.”
The first wave of probing comments about hockey and its purpose in the world had only been an overture.
Dad wore his little smile as the silence wrapped itself around all our throats.
I wondered how my brothers managed to have dinner here every week in these conditions.
Then I remembered that they were the same as my parents.
They liked it when it was quiet. They sat stiffly in their chairs, their faces hard.
I wondered if Michael was as somber with his patients. He looked like he was about to deliver some bad news. “It’s a shame,” he said. “About your grades.”
My stomach felt hollow and my throat strangled. Here we go again. “They’re not terrible.”
Silence.
Dad drew a deep breath slowly and held it, pondering. “‘Not terrible’ is not the golden standard.”
Becoming a general practitioner isn’t the golden standard, either, I thought. Instead, I shrugged. “That report card is the last thing my potential agents will look at.”
Michael scoffed. I wasn’t surprised. “See, the keyword there is ‘potential.’”
I swallowed a sigh. “There’s still time,” I said. “Sure, some players get their agents sooner, others get them later. We’re headed into the final stretch. We have games across the tri-state area lined up.”
Michael shook his head slowly.
Dad poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.
He lifted the glass, looked at the rim for a short while, then pressed it against his lips.
He drank slowly, set the glass on the table, and observed me.
“Who gets their agents sooner? Good Christian kids or those…” His teeth clamped together with anger.
You are obsessed, I thought. Even so, my guts tied into knots. “That’s irrelevant.”
“You’re so naive, Seby,” Michael said.
Dad lifted his hand to silence me just as I opened my mouth.
“Michael is right, Son. You telling that to yourself won’t make it true.
They have connections. They have the support of the public that’s turned away from God.
Who knows what they do to get the exposure and contacts?
Who knows what they give in order to get those agents you covet.
” He leaned a little toward me. “Have you received any improper propositions, Sebastian?”
It was my turn to grind my teeth. The corners of my lips curved down a little as my heart fractured.
“You have, haven’t you?” Dad said gently, almost like he wanted me to say that it was true.
“Of course not,” I squeezed sourly. He had so little experience in anything beyond this town and the parish and the holy goddamn books.
Dad gritted his teeth. “Son, there is no shame in it for you. The virtuous…”
“Dinner’s ready,” Mom said as she entered the dining room with Eryn following.
They carried the food in their hands and the huge bowl of mashed potatoes Eryn was hauling seemed too big for her thin arms. My chair scraped against the hardwood floor, and I got to my feet, taking the bowl from my sister.
She shot me a grateful and playful look, both merged into one and returned to the kitchen. I followed, murmuring I could bring out the rest.
As we rounded the corner and I scanned the kitchen, Eryn whispered, “Are you ready to run away screaming yet?”
“You know it,” I said in a tight voice, relaxing a little. “Is it always like this?”
Eryn shrugged. “Sort of. They know best, right?” The sarcasm drenched her tone.
“Michael’s the worst offender,” I whispered.
Eryn’s lips stretched into a guilty smile. She pushed the salad bowl my way and picked up the gravy to carry back. “We can gossip about our big brothers later.”
“No. We are going to.” I wore a polite little smile as I returned to the dining room.
Mom sat on the opposite end of the table from Dad. She seemed delighted to see me carry the salad. “Look at him,” she exclaimed. “Such a gentleman. That girl is so lucky, isn’t she?” she asked no one in particular. “What’s her name, again, dear?”
I shook my head as I placed the salad on the table. “There’s no girl, Mom.”
“Truly?” she asked. “I was sure there was…”
“Not anymore,” I said tightly. As I sat down, I made the mistake of looking at Dad. He was staring at me like I’d grown a pair of boobs out of nowhere.
“Don’t you think it’s well beyond the time you settled down a little?” he asked.
I’m turning twenty-three this summer, I wanted to say. Besides, I have settled down. Instead of speaking, I shrugged. I knew that there was no winning an argument with them.
We ate the roast turkey in silence after Dad said the graces, and at every scrape of the knife against the plate, Dad shot a glare in the offender’s direction.
I was the most common target. And after dinner, the more annoying of my brothers decided to linger around.
Dad, Michael, and I sat in the living room after Mom refused my offer to do the dishes, sounding almost scandalized. Eryn had no choice.
I crossed my legs knee over the knee and uncrossed them promptly when Dad let his gaze linger on them.
Jesus Christ. Is there anything allowed in this house?
But before I could even begin searching for some topic of conversation, Dad exhaled through his nose.
“We are glad to see you, Sebastian. You don’t visit nearly as often as other children.
” He left that hanging for a few moments. “We are worried.”
I shook my head. “What are you worried about?” I asked.
Dad hesitated for a short time. “Those boys you live with,” Dad began.
“We’ve seen what they are promoting. It’s not right, Seby. You’re better than that, but you’re not as smart as you think.” Michael’s voice was impatient with all the things he’d been wanting to say to me.
My stomach turned. Dad lifted a hand to silence my brother. How the hell had this guy become a doctor?
Michael ignored Dad. “No, he needs to hear this, Father. He’s exposing himself to their influence, thinking he’s immune. Nobody’s immune from temptation.”
I choked. “What are you…?”
“You could think it’s cool how people cheer and applaud when two of your teammates kiss in front of the cameras, but you don’t know how deep the risks are, Seby. You’re too young to know these things.” Michael was growing more agitated with each word.
“Enough.” Dad’s voice was tight. He waited for the silence to settle. “Michael is right, Son, but his language is extreme. We are worried, yes. We worry that you could be influenced in ways that would harm you. You don’t even know until it’s too late. It’s the job of your family to protect you.”
“You’re inexperienced,” Michael said flatly. After drumming his fingers on the arm holder of his recliner, he looked into my eyes. “What happened to Jennifer? Why aren’t you two together anymore?”
I held my tongue. It was none of their business. Besides, I never knew how to talk to any of them except Eryn.
Dad leaned forward and examined my face thoroughly. “Son. Nobody here will blame you. Nobody here thinks any less of you. If you lost your path, it’s not too late to find it again.”
Air drained out of my lungs and blood left my face. “What…are you asking?”
“Have those wicked boys tried to tempt you? Have they promised you something? Agents or contacts or what do you call it in exchange for…”
“No,” I snapped. “What?”
“It’s okay,” Michael said. “Nobody thinks it’s your fault.”
You’re such a fucking coward, I snapped at myself. “What the hell are you…?”
“Language,” Dad snapped roughly.
“Nobody’s been tempting me, Michael. Jennifer cheated on me and we broke up. There.”
“The wickedness of this world leaves me without hope,” Dad whispered, sinking back into his recliner.
I was clutching the arm holder of the couch like my life depended on it. “Why can’t we ever talk about anything else here?”
“Go ahead,” Michael said. “Bury your head in the sand. But it won’t help you, Seby. You can pretend all you like that this isn’t how things are, but you lost your path long ago.” He turned to Dad. “He never should have been allowed to play hockey. That’s where it all started.”
“What are you talking about? It’s a sport.
It’s a sport millions of people love.” I was growing more desperate by the minute and they could hear it in my voice.
Sweat was breaking out over my body. I wanted Tyler here to hold my hand.
And thinking of him filled me with guilt.
I couldn’t even stand up to my dad and brother.
What had I ever done to deserve Tyler? I’d been cheated on. That was why Tyler had made the move. To cheer me up. To help me out. To give me something good. Even his kisses weren’t something I asked for by myself, but something that happened because I was a loser.
I was a goddamn coward and everything good I had in this life was the work of a braver person.
“Enough,” Dad said, waving his hand. “We don’t mean to conspire against you, Sebastian. This is simply a conversation.”
Michael seemed like he wasn’t done talking, but he clenched his teeth and kept his words to himself.
When I left the living room, I passed Eryn’s room upstairs on the way to mine. Her door was slightly ajar and I knocked, then pushed my head through. “How are you?” I asked in a hoarse voice with no preamble.
“Used to it,” she said casually. She closed her laptop screen and looked at me from her bed.
It was a nicely decorated room with all the usual things that interested a high school senior and then some of the unique interests that belonged only to Eryn, such as the small microscope she’d saved money for months to buy for herself.
“What are you watching?” I asked, figuring she was likely binging some show in her downtime.
“Colleges,” she said lightly.
My heart leaped. The mood of the evening made me feel like I had nothing smart to say.
My approval hardly mattered. After all, the best I’d ever achieved was to follow my passion and I still hadn’t landed an agent.
But I looked Eryn in the eyes and said, “Just get out of here, okay?” It was barely louder than a whisper. “And if you need help, come to me.”
I moved back from her door as she nodded and thanked me. The hollowness within me made my last words echo mockingly through my head. I couldn’t help myself. How could I ever hope to help anyone else? I could be added to excellence and the equation would result in mediocrity.
Eryn would be smart to stay away from me as much as I wanted her to stay away from our fucked up family. If Dad and Michael had their way, she’d never leave the goddamn kitchen. And me? I would just trap her in my own misery.
When I shut myself in my room, I reached for my phone. I needed Ty. I always needed Ty. As I glanced at my screen, there was a message waiting for me.
Tyler: So far so good. Dad’s in a great mood. How are things on your front, soldier?
I locked my phone and stuffed it inside my pocket.
The urge to call him and tell him about the evening conversations was too strong, but the result was obvious.
I would just upset him when he was having one of the rare good moments with his dad.
Mr. Morgan had been haunted by his failed marriage for years, and his moods had always been unpredictable, even before the divorce, so I decided to ignore the message.
I fell onto my bed and buried my face in the pillow.
Was there even a chance for me? I was starting to think that the NHL was a pipedream.
Two guys were picked from our team last year.
Cam and Riley had been drafted against all odds and on the same team no less.
How likely was it that Tyler and I would get drafted, too?
Odds were one of us would be picked or neither would.
And if one were to get the contract, it was obviously going to be Tyler.
Dad was right, even if he danced around saying it aloud. Everything I tried in all these years amounted to nothing. And I had to start coming to terms with it.