Page 26 of Shameless in Vegas

So, that was when I hustled for the first time in my life.

I set two goals. One: take the max number of classes I was allowed every semester to graduate by the end of the year. Two: raise my GPA from a pathetic two-point-something to as close to a four-point-oh that I could get it.

And I hustled.

I quit going to parties. I quit going out to pick up girls. I even quit picking up Saturday afternoon games of basketball and football with my buddies in favor of studying. I did nothing but eat, barely sleep, and study.

By the end of the scholastic year and some friggin’miracle, I’d managed to make an A in every friggin’ class and submitted my application to graduate by the skin of my damn teeth. I got the official letter that stated I had fulfilled all the necessary requirements for a Bachelor of Business Administration on a Friday afternoon about a week later.

My GPA wasn’tquitewhat I’d hoped, but it was respectable, and when I presented the news to Papá at our weekly family dinner that evening, I was sure he’d be pleased.

I mean, he’d give me shit about it, but would be in a good-natured, relieved kinda way. Andthiswould finally prove to him that, even though we had our differences and were two totally different types of men, I was still a man he could be proud to call his son.

Arriving at the house, I parked next to Colin’s gunmetal gray BMW M4, a car he’d bought for himself after his latest promotion at Platinum Aviation. Colin was a year older than me and had started college early, so he’d spent the past three years becoming the biggest hotshot sales guy they had—all of which made Papá practicallyweakwith admiration for Colin’s bootstrap mentality. He and his younger brother, Archer, had been charity cases, brought into our family by Mamá and her tendency to be a total bleeding heart. Despite that, Colin never accepted a single handout from my parents. They tried to pay for his tuition. They tried to set him up with an apartment. They tried to buy him a car. He refused everything other than letters of recommendation from my father when he applied for his student loans and later the job where he was currentlycrushing it.

With the letter from the university stuffed in the inside pocket of my suit jacket, I waltzed into the house and straight to the dining room with the intention of making a big show of my accomplishment for everyone to see.

Mamá was flitting back and forth between the dining room and the adjoining kitchen, all in a flutter, chirping about needing to plan a party for something the following weekend. She was on her way back into the kitchen for the third time when she called over her shoulder, “Colin, youmusttell Archer that hehasto be there.”

“Oh.” Colin shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then rubbed his forehead. “He’s actually…” He cleared his throat and adjusted the lapels of his slate gray suit jacket. “It’s not really a great time for him lately.”

Mamá uttered a listless sigh and mumbled in Spanish under her breath as she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mamá,” I called after her, pulling out a chair across from Colin and perpendicular to where Papá sat at the head of the table.

“Hola, mijito!” she chirped, but didn’t return, so I opted to wait for a minute to spill the beans about my big accomplishment.

I picked up a crystal decanter of scotch in the center of the table and filled the glass at my place setting. “What’s going on with Archer, and what does hehaveto be there for?”

Colin’s shoulders sank. “Guess.” He picked up his glass and downed it, then shook his head.

A pang of disappointment and sympathy resounded in my chest. Archer had a bad tendency to dabble in various illicit drugs, which was why he was rarely around as often as Colin was.

I offered him a tilt of my glass in solidarity. “That sucks, bruh.”

Colin heaved a sigh, setting down his glass and turning it from side to side. “Yeah.”

I picked up the decanter and refilled his glass. “So, what’s Mamá’s latest party for?” My motherlivedfor throwing parties, and she’d plan one just for the hell of it sometimes. I didn’t know what this particular party was going to be for, but I knew once I delivered my news, whatever the occasion was would change to a celebration foryours truly. Either that, or she’d just plan an even bigger one shortly thereafter.

“Oh.” Colin chuckled, picking up his glass again. “She’s just all excited because—”

“It is to celebrate Colin’s acceptance to the MBA program at NYU,” Papá interjected, dragging his gaze to my face. His russet eyes were narrowed to slits, and they were boring holes into me with such intensity that my face felt hot. “We are veryproudof him.”

My stomach plummeted so hard and so fast that my head started to float a little. “Oh.” I looked back at Colin with what was probably a completely transparent grin. “No shit. That’s awesome, bruh.”

“Well, it’s…” He shrugged. “I need that sales director position, and the only way to get myself in the running is to have that kind of edge. Everyone in management has one, and it’s kind of a requirement.”

“Precisely,” Papá hissed. I could still feel his eyes drilling me. “The better your education, the further you’ll go in business.” He picked up his glass and swirled the amber liquid. “Without one, it’s nearlyimpossibleto amount to much. At least not without significant focus and drive.”

“Yeah,” I echoed, but it felt completely hollow.

It was clear this wasn’t the time to try to make a big show of my paltry-by-comparison accomplishment, and I would just have to let Papá know privately.

I gestured at him with my glass. “Hey, Papá, you got a minute to talk to me in the hall about something?”

He grumbled in the back of his throat for a moment, then took a sip of his drink before pushing his chair back from the table. “The mindreels,hijo.”

I managed not to roll my eyes as I stood up and followed him.

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