Chapter Thirteen
KAYDEN
Junior Year
I knew something was wrong the second I walked into the kitchen and saw my report card sitting open on the counter. Dad was standing, looking over it with his jaw set in that particular way that meant somebody was about to have a very bad night.
That someone was me.
"Sit down," he said through clenched teeth.
Fuck.
I dropped my gear bag by the door and sat, already running through the numbers in my head.
I knew exactly which grade was about to be up for discussion.
I was close to failing Chemistry with a sixty.
I'd been drowning in that class for two months, staying up until three in the morning.
I was trying to keep my head above water between practices and games, while also trying to have some semblance of a social life.
"You're almost failing Chemistry."
"I know. I've been working to bring it up. Mrs. Brown said I can do extra credit..."
"I don't care about extra credit." He looked at me, and there was no warmth in his gaze. Good ole Dad. A dick like normal.
"Do you understand what a transcript like this does to your recruiting profile? Scouts talk to academic advisors, Kayden. Programs run background checks on more than just your slap shot."
"I've had a lot going on.”
"Everyone on your team has a lot going on. That’s no excuse.”
My mind drifted to his and Mom’s nasty divorce proceedings. He may’ve thought it didn’t affect me, but it did. There was a reason I was never around. Why I stayed at Jake's until I overstayed my welcome.
"I'll fix it," I said instead, wanting this conversation to be over. I didn’t want him involved in any part of my life. He didn’t care before when he was fucking his secretary, he shouldn’t now. "I'll talk to my teacher tomorrow."
"You'll do better than that. I'm hiring a tutor. Three nights a week, starting Monday." He said it like it was already decided, which it was, the way most things in my life got decided without my input. "And I want to see your grades weekly from now on. Every Friday, you show me your progress."
"Dad, I'm seventeen, not seven."
"Then start acting like someone who understands what's actually at stake here.
" His voice sharpened, and I shrunk back.
"You have one shot at this. One. The draft doesn't wait around for kids who can't manage their time.
You think there isn't a kid in Ohio or Michigan with your exact skill set who also happens to have a 4.
0? Programs choose the whole package, Kayden. "
"I’ve had a rough few months. I was dealing with..."
Fuck, I should’ve never gone there.
I stopped myself before I said it. Before I said Jake's name, before I brought up the fact that my best friend made me swear off the girl I’d been pining for.
Or the fact that Mom was no longer around.
She wasn’t around much before, but now it was like she’d written me off completely.
Her husband having an affair was an excuse to move on with her life and forget she had a son who existed.
"Dealing with what?" he asked, and for one brief second something almost like genuine curiosity flickered across his face.
I let the moment pass. "Nothing. Just a lot on my plate."
"Well, welcome to being an athlete with real prospects.
There's always going to be a lot on your plate.
The ones who make it figure out how to carry it.
" He tapped the report card once. "Tutor starts Monday.
I expect this grade above a B by the end of semester, or we will be having a very different conversation about hockey. "
"Understood," I stood and reached for my bag, ready to get away from him.
"Kayden," he said, stopping me as I was already in the doorway.
"I'm not doing this to be hard on you." His voice had softened by a fraction, though it still carried more strategy than warmth.
"I'm doing this because I know what you're capable of, and I'm not going to watch you throw it away because you didn't manage your time properly.
You understand that, right? This is for you. "
The inner me scoffed. As good as it sounded, it wasn’t for me. It was for him. He was living vicariously through me.
I shook my head, deciding not to respond. I went up to my room, dropped my bag on the floor, and sat on the edge of the bed staring at nothing for a long time. My phone rang, and I reached in my pocket to see who it was.
Mom.
My teeth grated together, the thought of talking to her made me want to vomit. I answered anyway.
“What do you want?”
“That’s no way to greet your mother, honey.
” Her voice was sickly sweet, as if she was trying to be nice so she could get something from me.
That’s all our relationship was nowadays.
I never saw her and she would randomly call out of the blue asking for something.
It was rare that I answered the phone when she did.
“Maybe I would be nicer if you actually cared.”
She scoffed, “How can you say that to me? I care. Your father is the one who cheated.”
“And you’re the one who left. No one ever said you had to stick around, but you wrote me off completely.
Like you didn’t carry me for nine fucking months, or that you didn’t raise me for sixteen years.
How does a parent leave their kid like that?
You have to get a divorce, fine. But there are many cases where parents share custody.
You gave Dad full custody, and you haven’t even once asked to see me. So, what the actual fuck, Mom?”
She sighed, and there was a sound on the phone that sounded like a sniffle. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have left you like that...”
“Again, what do you want, Mom?”
“I wanted to let you know that I’m getting married.”
My fingers clenched around the phone, "That was fast.”
“Drop the attitude, Kayden. ”
“I know, it’s crazy that I don’t even know him. You are more involved with yourself and apparently his life then your own son's. Does he even know you have a son?”
There was a brief moment of silence. “I haven’t told him yet. He’s a politician and if it were to come out in the news that his wife has a son he doesn’t know about...”
I clenched the phone in my hand, “Why are you calling?”
“I wanted to see how you were doing, check on you.” Part of me wanted to believe her, but deep down there was something else, and I was too tired to try and figure out what it was.
I shook my head and stood up. “If you haven’t told the man you plan to marry that you have a son from your first marriage, then I don’t want to be a part of it.
If you can’t even claim me as your son in public, then I want nothing to do with you.
And I’m going to say this now, if I end up going to the big leagues one day, don’t come crawling back because you won’t be accepted.
I love you and have always loved you, but I guess that’s not good enough. Have a nice life, Mom.”
After that, I ended the call and ended my relationship with her.
A parent is supposed to be there for their child through thick and thin.
Through divorce, death and unfortunate circumstances.
They aren’t supposed to leave their children at the first sign of trouble.
They bring that child into the world, then they need to be a responsible adult and fucking own it.
I grabbed my headphones on my desk, put them in and went for a run. I’d already completed a grueling workout for the day, but that conversation brought a whole new set of problems out of me.
Parents fucking sucked...