Chapter 6 Callan
CALLAN
“Thanks, Astrid,” I say as I open the front door.
“For what?” She steps outside and turns to face me.
“For distracting me while watching the game.” She asked a ton of questions, and I got lost in explaining how things worked. It helped to keep me sane while watching my old team sail to an easy win as if I’d never existed.
“I’m glad I helped. Not sure if I should admit to still feeling clueless about soccer.”
A chuckle rumbles from my chest. “Guess I need to get better at explaining.”
“Guess I should learn to listen better,” she jokes.
“I think the only things that registered are your position is officially called a center forward, and while scoring goals is your main responsibility, it’s also about bringing others into the game, remaining strong on the ball, and anticipating well so you’re in the right place at the right time. ”
“I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be.” Her lips twitch. “Everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.”
“I’ll make a foot—soccer fan of you yet!”
The floorboards creak behind me, and that’s my cue to wrap this up. “I’ll see you at school on Tuesday, Astrid.”
“Sure thing. Bye.” She waggles her fingers and smiles over my shoulder. “Bye, Mrs. Hunt. We’ll talk soon about the house.”
“Looking forward to it, honey,” Ma says, materializing at my side. They came home an hour ago to put Erin to bed. She’s usually in bed way earlier than this, but as the school is closed tomorrow, she got to stay up late. “She’s a sweet girl,” she adds when Astrid reaches the end of our driveway.
“She’s cool.”
“Stunning too, though it’s no surprise with Elsa for a mum.”
Yeah, I’m not touching that. I close the door when Astrid reaches her porch. “I’m going to bed.”
“Callan.”
“Don’t, Ma. I’m tired.” I make a beeline for the stairs.
“Night, love,” she calls out after me as I take the stairs two at a time.
“I was hoping to catch you before school,” Da says the instant I appear in the kitchen on Tuesday morning. He tried talking to me yesterday, so I fucked off out of the house, hanging out with Thor at his gaff most of the day and only coming in after I knew Da would be in bed.
Now, he’s dressed in one of his work suits, enjoying a bowl of oats and berries at the table. Da is up and out early every day to beat the worst of the traffic en route to his job in Burlington. Ignoring him, I make a beeline for the fridge.
Sweat rolls down my back and beads on my forehead as I yank the fridge door open and remove the drink I made earlier—coconut water with sea salt, lemon, and honey.
I don’t usually go running, preferring sessions in the gym on days we don’t have training, but I had a shite sleep, and I got up an hour ago to see if pounding the streets would help.
It didn’t.
My brain is still wired, and I’m still so fucking angry. It didn’t take long after Astrid left Sunday night for the calmness I felt in her presence to disappear. All the usual emotions returned, and I haven’t stopped replaying the match repeatedly in my tortured head ever since.
“I thought we’d make a start on the front porch this weekend.”
Continuing to ignore my father, I knock back my drink before rinsing my bottle in the sink and leaving it on the drainer to dry.
“How long are you going to keep this up?” Da asks as I walk off.
“We’re talking about this, Callan!” he shouts as I storm out of the kitchen, almost colliding with Ma in the doorway.
Her brows lift in question, but I push past her and fly up the stairs, grabbing a quick shower in the puke-inducing bathroom before Erin gets up.
I dress in jeans and a T-shirt, slip my feet into my Nikes, and snag my backpack and gym bag before leaving my room. Erin is yawning and rubbing her eyes as she passes me on the landing. “Morning, Pixie,” I say, ruffling her hair.
Erin scowls, mumbling under her breath as she enters the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. To say my little sister isn’t a morning person is the understatement of the century. She’s a right little grump in the mornings. Can’t wait to see her as a teen.
Racing down the stairs, I dump my bags in the hall and head into the kitchen for breakfast. My parents are having a hushed argument when I enter the room, but they instantly stop, picking their heads up and staring at me.
“Don’t stop arguing on my account,” I say, opening the fridge.
“This bullshit ends now, Callan,” Da says as Ma tugs on his arm.
I remove eggs, Greek yogurt, berries, and butter from the fridge before pulling a saucepan out of a press.
“I’ve had enough of the silent treatment,” Dad says in a barely contained, angry tone as I refill the kettle. “You think you’re a man, then fucking act like one!” he yells.
“You act like one!” I shout as I put the kettle on and turn around to face him.
“Your mother and I have bent over backwards to make this as easy as possible for you, and you don’t get to be a little shit any longer. It ends now, Callan.”
“You didn’t need to bend over backwards. You should’ve just let me stay with Nan, and we’d all be fucking happy.” My fingers dig into the edge of the counter, and I swear to God, if Da continues with this bullshit, I won’t be responsible for my actions.
“Grow the fuck up, Callan. I’m not having the same argument repeatedly. Your mother and I have explained ourselves over and over.” Some of the anger fades from his face as he steps up to me. “You’re our son. Our responsibility. You know we worry about your mental health. We—”
“If that was true, you’d have left me behind in Ireland,” I shout, instantly enraged. “I’m way more depressed now than I was after the Liverpool trials.”
“Callan, no.” Tears glisten in Mum’s eyes as she lays a hand on her chest. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the fucking truth. I’m miserable here. I want to go home.” The button clicks on the kettle, and it switches off.
“This is your home now.” Da’s jaw pulls into a tight line. “The sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for all of us.”
“I don’t want to accept it!” I roar, throwing my hands in the air. “I don’t want to fucking be here! Why can’t you get that into your thick skulls!”
“You listen here, you ungrateful little prick.” Da pushes himself all up in my face.
“Tony, no!” Ma tries to slide in between us, but neither of us is budging. “Don’t do this, please.”
“Stay out of this, Ma. This is between Da and me,” I say without looking at her. I know if I see tears on her face, I’ll back down, and I’m sick of Da thinking he has the upper hand all the time.
“This impacts all of us, Callan. This isn’t just between you two.”
“This is all your fault, but you’re still trying to blame me!” I say, shoving Da’s shoulders. “Get the fuck out of my face, old man.”
Da grabs my shirt. “You really don’t want to push my buttons right now, Callan.”
I sneer at him, loving I have the height advantage. “You really don’t want to push mine.”
“Tony, please. This isn’t the way,” Ma cries, attempting to pull Dad away from me.
“I hate you,” I hiss, glaring at my dad, hoping he feels every word of it. “You have ruined my life.”
“I’ve given you every fucking opportunity!
We could’ve bought a place in the city to be closer to my job, but we settled here because the high school has one of the best soccer teams in the state.
Not to mention the soccer scholarship opportunities at Bennington Turo.
We give you a generous allowance so you don’t have to work and have the time to commit to training and matches.
We pay your gym membership at the most expensive gym in town because you said it has the best facilities.
We even bought you a fucking truck, and your ma has all these plans for doing up your room so you’ll feel more comfortable here.
Right now, I’m questioning the whole damn thing because you don’t fucking deserve any of it! ”
“Then you know what to do, right?”
“Stop it!” Erin raises her voice to be heard over the shouting. “Stop fighting all the time,” she cries as Ma rushes to her side.
Fuck.
I take a deep breath as Dad and I automatically separate, putting distance between us.
“I’m sorry, princess.” Dad leans down to kiss Erin’s brow.
“Why do you and Callan have to argue all the time. It makes me so sad.”
Well, double fuck. Guilt jumps up and viciously bites me.
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll all be okay,” Dad lies without looking at me.
Tears are rolling down Mum’s face as Erin clings to her side, and I feel like the biggest dickhead.
Da kisses Ma, quietly whispering in her ear, before he grabs his briefcase and exits the kitchen, taking all of my anger with him.
“Sorry, Pixie,” I say, crouching in front of her.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she cries, throwing her arms around me. “Dara isn’t here, and you’re all I’ve got, and I need you, Cal. Please, please, just be happy.”
Shoot me now. “I’ll try, Erin.” I brush bouncy curls back off her face. “For you, I’ll try.”
“Dude, you can’t still be pissed,” Thor says, coming up alongside me as I walk across the cafeteria toward the grill bar.
It’s lunchtime, and I’m starving because I skipped breakfast at home, heading to school early, to avoid looking at my mum’s disappointed face and my little sister’s sad one.
“Fuck your dad. He sounds like a dick, but don’t let it ruin your life.
No girl is gonna come near you with a face like thunder. ”
“Not sure where you got the idea I want attention from girls,” I say, picking up the tongs and helping myself to two grilled chicken breasts.
“Come on, man. Every girl in senior year is creaming their panties the second you enter the room. You’ve gotta capitalize on that.”
“Not interested,” I grit out as I spy long golden-blonde hair from the corner of my eye.
Turning my head, I notice Astrid deep in conversation with her friend with the black hair.
I can’t remember her name. Something beginning with G.
Gemma, maybe? Astrid is smiling, and she truly is stunning.
I love that she doesn’t seem aware of it, or if she is, she doesn’t flaunt it or feel the need to plaster herself in makeup or tight clothes to get attention.
“Not interested, my ass,” Thor mutters, adding a burger and chips to his plate.
“Mate, you really need to get your diet sorted. That stuff will clog your arteries and slow down your game.”
“We don’t have practice on Mondays,” he reminds me over a mouthful of fries. “And nice deflection, but I’m onto you, bro. You’re into Astrid. Hence the no interest in other girls. Got it.”
“That is not what I meant, and it’s not true. We’re—”
“Hi, Callan.” The head cheerleader sidles up to my other side. “Did you have a good weekend?” she asks, peering at me from behind ridiculously long eyelashes. The girls back home are into those stupid fake lashes too.
“Forgotten you’re dating Garner, Ana?” Thor says, interrupting before I can answer the girl.
I load roasted veggies and rice onto my plate, content to ignore whatever petty drama this is.
All I know is I want no part of it.
I’m here for football. End of.
Ana scowls, and it’s not a good look on her. “I’m not sure what you’re implying Thor, but knock it off.”
Thor laughs. “You’re wasting your time with this one. He only has eyes for one girl at this school, and it’s not you.”
Ana’s gaze narrows on Thor before she instantly swings her attention in Astrid’s direction.
“I have eyes for no girl.” I pin sharp eyes on my teammate. “I’m here to play ball, and that’s it. I have zero time for anything else.” I flash Ana a fake smile. “No personal offense meant.”
“None taken, and I admire a guy who knows what he wants and goes for it.”
“Oh, look, here comes your boyfriend.” Thor grins like a maniac. Ana momentarily stiffens. “Good luck talking your way out of this,” he adds before following me toward the drinks fridge.
“Watch your back with that one,” he says.
“I have done nothing, nor do I intend to.” I hand him a bottle of water.
“Travis Garner is looking at you like he wants to remove your head from your shoulders,” he says, uncapping his water.
At his words, I look over at where Ana and her boyfriend are clearly arguing.
Dude is tall and muscular, and like Thor said, he’s looking at me like he wants to punch my lights out.
I’d like to see him try. I’m not lacking in the height or muscles department either, and I fancy my chances.
The Irish are always the scrappier fighters.
Maybe if I get expelled, Da will send me home, but what do I have to go back to now?
My team have already replaced me, and though I know they’d take me back, there is no guarantee I’d get my position back.
My replacement is a talented prick, and he scored two goals on Sunday.
Perhaps fighting the dickhead isn’t such a smart move after all.
“What’s his deal?” I ask, averting my eyes and dismissing the dude because fuck him and his missus. Not my fault she has a wandering eye.
“He’s our star QB.” Thor’s mocking tone has me cracking up.
“Not a fan?”
“Not even a bit. Of him or the sport.”
“How very un-American of you,” I tease, smiling and nodding at Astrid as we walk by the burrito stand. I’m not stopping on purpose, even if I have to force my feet to keep moving.
“Hi, ladies. Bye, ladies,” Thor calls out as I jerk him forward.
He really is such a clown.
“All joking aside, Cal, you should steer clear of Ana,” he adds in a more serious tone. “She seems determined to dig her claws into you, and Garner will not take that lying down. They’ve been dating exclusively for over a year, and he’s not letting her go without a fight.”
“Again,” I say, claiming a seat at the team table.
“I have zero interest in her or any girl. I need girl drama like a hole in the head.” Even as I say it, my eyes seek Astrid out across the room where she’s now seated at her usual table.
Her head lifts, as if she heard me calling her, and we smile at one another from across the cafeteria.
“Think you need to get better at the inner pep talks.” Thor chuckles as he throws his arm over my shoulders. “Seems like your dick didn’t get the memo.”