Page 27 of Second Chance Serenity

“I’m a bit confused about that, seeing as how you’ve received multiple scholarship offers.”

“I don’t see how you’re confused,” I reply. “I told you exactly what I want to do after I graduate.”

My father’s eyes, so like mine, flash with anger. “And I told you that you will do better than working as a grease monkey for the rest of your life.”

The fact that he just insulted Reyna’s father and the business he built from the ground up infuriates me. I push to my feet. “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

“Actually, I can.”

“No. I have enough credits to graduate, I’m eighteen, you don’t get to control my life. Not anymore.”

My father takes a step closer. I’m already half a foot taller than he is, but he still tries to intimidate me. He may have never put hands on me, but he’s certainly threatened a time or two. “You still live in my house. You are my son.”

“I’m eighteen,” I snap back.

“Do you really think Reyna is going to want a life of struggle? Do you really think she’ll be happy with your mediocre life? And if she’s so intent on you staying here and becoming a nobody, then you shouldn’t be with her.”

Fury radiates through me, and I clench my hands into fists at my sides. “Are you telling me to break up with her?”

“I’m telling you that you need to think long and hard about the decisions you’re making. You have a chance at being somebody. At making a lot of money.”

“Not everything is about money.” I practically spit the words at him because it’s the same old argument.

Be a pro ball player, Michael, you’ll make lots of money.

Be a pro boxer, Michael, you’ll make lots of money.

Go to college and be a doctor, Michael, you’ll make lots of money.

Over and over again.

Money. Money. Money.

“You aren’t going to live in my house,” he snaps. “Not when you refuse to make something of yourself.”

“I’m not going to college,” I yell. “I have my life planned out, and just because you weren’t good enough to go pro doesn’t mean I have to. You don’t get to live your life through me!” I scream at him until my throat burns.

And by the time I’m done, I know nothing will be the same.

“Get out of my house. You have until I get back from my shift or I’ll throw you out myself.” He turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him. I stare at it, half expecting it to open again, but when it doesn’t, I slowly sit back on my bed.

My mom won’t fight him on it. She never does.

But where am I supposed to go?

What am I supposed to do?

Reyna. Emotion claws at my throat and my eyes burn with unshed tears. What do I have to offer her if I’m homeless?

“Ma, you in here?”

“Back here!” Her voice echoes toward me from somewhere in the back of my dad’s shop, so I move carefully through tall towers of boxes, tubs, and other various items he’s collected over the years.

She’s at the top of a ladder, trying desperately to pull down a box with a blue lid. “Want some help?” I ask, brow arched.

Delilah Anderson looks down at me and grins. “If you’d shown up sooner, perhaps I could’ve used it.”

I laugh. “Sorry, Ma, I was busy. Come on and let me get it for you so you don’t break your neck.”

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