Page 32 of The Chemistry of Us

He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head like I was the crazy one.

“This is my future. This is what I want to do with my life,” I argued through gritted teeth. My anger began to take over me in a way that was so aggressive I was ready to throw the chair I sat in.

Dad leaned forward. “To become what, Vaughan?”

“A professional football player,” I deadpanned.

“And if that doesn’t work out?” His cruel smile made me want to punch something. I was talented. He knew it, and he bragged about it, but at the end of the day, he wanted me to be him.

End of story.

“Thanks for your confidence in me.”

They were killing my soul, crushing my dreams without even batting an eye. I immediately resented them for trying to mold me to their liking, not mine.

“I’ve never asked you for anything. This is important to me. This is what I want formyfuture.” I was beating a dead horse, but I kept doing it. I was suffering, and they were thriving, building me into what they wanted.

“This conversation ends now. I’ve said my piece. End of story.” I stood.

They weren’t taking this away from me.

Not now.

Not ever.

I had never disrespected my parents, but at that moment, I wanted to do exactly that. I wanted to fight and have my opinion heard, and for the first time in my life, I realized that my life wasn’t actually mine—it was theirs.

“And here I thought you would support me.”

Dad shook his head, disappointed. “Support you? You need to have a backup plan. Do you think I’ve gotten this far in life without one? Unbelievable. How about you show your mother and me some respect? For everything we’ve done for you?”

I scoffed. “I didn’t know that respect was earned off attending a graduate program. That’s a lot to ask of a college and another degree. Don’t you think?”

“Vaughan…” Mom warned.

I laughed. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I follow your rules or else. You remind me daily. I should have it memorized by now.” Like a Bible verse.

Dad instantly stood and was over to me in two strides. Right in my face, he grabbed my T-shirt in his fist. I was used to Dad’s aggressiveness. He never hit me or raised a hand, but his voice? It was always raised when I was a disappointment. I was nothing if I wasn’t helping the family name.

“Listen to me.” He gripped my collar. “We give you everything, everything, and you’re trying to shit all over it. All the connections I’ve made for you. All the money I’ve spent on you being at the right place at the right time. I have done nothing but try to think about your future!”

He just confirmed what I always knew. I was a fuckup in their eyes. Not worthy enough to be their son. All I ever wanted was for them to accept me for who I was and welcome me with open arms.

I wondered what it would be like to just pretend to pass out at the dinner table to embarrass them and be done with everything. Was this why people hurt themselves? To hurt others? I shook my head as he kept hold of the collar of my shirt. The grass wasn’t always greener on the other side. No, it sometimes suffocated you despite looking so pretty. On the outside, everything I had was perfect, but on the inside, I was slowly suffocating.

This was exactly why I spent my life hiding behind football. It was the only way I felt like they would love me. I knew… I knew they wouldn’t accept me. Except I never thought it would hurtthis goddamn much for them to confirm what I already knew in the core of my being.

“Wow…” I stepped back out of his grasp. Hands surrendered, head shaking. I didn’t even know what to say. I wondered what Tru would have said at that moment. She always stood up for herself. She was always fierce, and I was silent. I didn’t realize I was thinking about her and only her until my dad kept staring at me like I’d lost my mind.

I could see it in his eyes right away when I didn’t speak. He wanted to apologize and take back his hateful words, but that wasn’t my father. He remained the solid man he always was. Breathing heavy with flared nostrils and a look of pity on his face.

I backed away from the situation before I said something I regretted.

“Run along, Son. Which one of your girls or parties am I paying for tonight? Huh?” he yelled as I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

I couldn’t believe this, tearing into my insecurities. I wasn’t expecting that.

I didn’t bother to look back.

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