Page 11 of Man On

I throw on some clothes, slip my feet into a pair of slides and grab the bag with my dirty cleats before bounding down the stairs to fill a bottle of water.

My dad is in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He looks up as I enter, giving me an odd smile.

"There he is!"

"Uh… Hey Dad," I answer, unsure why he's so perky this morning. He’s not a grouchy guy, he's just not outwardly affectionate or cheery all the time.

"You all set for the graduation party next weekend?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks." There's no use reminding him that it's just a get together, a simple bonfire at the local beach behind a friend’s house. We live in a lake town, but it's not tourist season yet, so the beach will be relatively deserted. Plus, Shanda Milton’s parents are conveniently going to be out of town, so we’ll have the house to ourselves.

My father and I have adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy about drinking, and I hope it stays that way so I don't have to lie to him about the keg a few of my old rec teammates are bringing.

"Is Lane going?"

"I doubt it."

It's not a secret that Lane and I don't get along. We barely talk, other than clipped conversations like the one this morning, and the occasional dirty, degrading words I use when I tell him how fast to jerk his cock. Not that anyone knows about that.

"I've got a surprise for you," he says, his voice trailing off. I snap out of my thoughts, wondering if he's going to make me guess what it is. With a smile, he tosses an envelope down on the table. "Mail came for you yesterday. I would have left it for you to open whenever you got in last night, but I wanted to see your face when you opened it."

I stare at the envelope. It's thick. That's a good sign, right?

Slowly, I pick it up and run my finger under the seal. I don't think my dad appreciates me dragging this out, but my hands are shaking as I pull the stack of papers out and unfold them.

Dear Mr. Milner,

On behalf of the faculty and staff at Harrison University, we are happy to inform you that you have been accepted…

"I got in," I say simply, staring at the letter in disbelief.

My dad grins proudly, standing to walk over and wrap his arms around me. "I knew you would, son. Congratulations."

I lean into him to let him hug me, but keep staring at the letter.

"I… I got an athletic scholarship?" It doesn't cover everything, but housing and most of my tuition will be covered, which are the big ones.

"You're surprised about that, too?" My dad laughs, thumping me on the back.

I've been playing competitive soccer since I was five years old, and I’ve been part of quite a few championship teams. My high school team won the state championship last fall, and my rec team is playing in the regional championship next month. We've had scouts in the stands, but none for the college I really wanted to go to. My tryout wasn't very good either. Mostly because Lane was there, getting too friendly with one of the other students trying out. It was distracting.

It might seem dumb, considering Lane is a huge guy, but he's… impressionable. He always has been, on account of being so sheltered growing up. And as much as I enjoy tormenting and teasing him, I'm not about to let anyone else fuck with him. He has no idea how many rumors I’ve shut down since we’ve been in high school. He thinks he's ready to move on and get away from me, yet he applied to my top choice university.

A horn beeps twice outside.

"That's Miah, there's a pickup game in the park," I say absently, still staring at the letter. I fold it up and slip it into the side of my duffle bag before looking up at my father, who's still looking at me like he couldn't be prouder. I know he'd probably be even happier if I'd gotten early acceptance and a full ride like Lane did, but for once I feel like he's just as proud of my accomplishment.

Dad hugs me again and ruffles my hair, which he has to reach up to do. I'm taller than Lane these days, although nowhere near as wide and built. I seem scrawny by comparison, but I'm stronger than I look.

"Gotta go," I say. "Oh, and Dad?"

"Yeah, son?"

"Don't tell Lane yet. I want to surprise him."

"Be nice," he warns, though his tone is laced with mirth.

"I'm always nice!"

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