Page 31 of The Chemistry of Us

“Vaughan,” Mom coaxed in that voice she used when talking politics or trying to calm someone down. “We don’t mean it like that. We just want what’s best for you.”

“Are you for real?”I snapped.

“Vaughan, watch your tone,” Dad ordered.

Mom smiled, and Dad shook his head. Now was as good a time as any. I mean, it was already going to hell at this point anyway.

“About college,” I said, wiping my mouth with my napkin, bringing their attention back to me. “I’m able to understand the material thanks to her.”

They beamed.

“Once you get your grades up, you need to start applying to graduate schools.” Dad nodded. “It’s what we’ve always done. Everyone in this family has at least a master's, and while we’re proud of your football journey, it’s important to have an education to fall back on.”

I could have literally quoted exactly what he just said since he’d been shoving it down my throat since I was eight.

“I’m not sure I want to go to graduate school,” I confessed.

Both of their faces were void of any emotion. As expected, I shocked them, but the masks were still there, the same ones they wore for their friends. They simply stared while buying time to convince me to make a different choice. Their own son.

Fuck. The amount of time I actually tolerated this should be awarded. I hated it. There wasn’t any warmth, nothing.

I waited.

“Where is this coming from?” Dad asked, folding his hands in front of his face like he was trying to be sympathetic when I knew it was all for show.Look innocent, look submissive, try to be empathetic. Fuck that.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned this.” I leaned back and crossed my arms.

Their faces were the blank canvas I was used to, but I still couldn’t read them at all. They were either pissed or in “fix” mode.

“Well, this is the first I’ve heard of it,” Dad exclaimed too calmly, in fact.

I shrugged like it didn’t matter, like they didn’t matter, like my future didn’t matter.

I wanted to say it was because he never listened to me.

“You’re going to graduate school, Vaughan. End of discussion,” he snapped, locking eyes with me like all it took was him to use a lower octave, and I’d bend over and say thank you.

“Here, I thought it was the beginning.”

“I don’t need to see any more of this garbage, son. Is this why you’re an average student?”

“Dad, it’s not?—”

He put his finger up in the air, silencing me. I swallowed hard.

“Money on tutors. Money on after-school help. Not to mention, the money to even get you into Harvard.We’ve spent tens of thousands of dollars to get you the best education, and this is how you repay us?”

“Mark…”

He put his hand out in front of my mother, silencing her as well.

“If you don’t go to graduate school, how will you afford your lifestyle?” Wow, my lifestyle. Wow, just wow.

How did they still not understand me? “I don’t need your money. I want to pursue football.”

“You can do that while continuing a good education.”

“Or I can do that in place of it.”

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