Page 79 of Ours
“No, Dad, I’m not!” Nic stood his ground. “Say I play football in college, then what? I go pro and destroy my body and brain? Go broke by the time I’m forty, driving around the country giving speeches for cash? That’s not the kind of life I want.”
“So then what the hell do you think you—”
“Nicolas. Raphael.” Nic and his father turn to see Nic’s mother, Luciana, standing in the doorway. “What are you yelling about? I can hear you across the house.”
“I was just trying to tell Dad—”
“Lucy, he’s talking crazy—”
Luciana raised her hand in a silent order for both men to quiet once more. “Go to your room, Nicolas.”
“But Mom—”
“Now.” Luciana didn’t even look at Nic, only glared daggers at her husband.
“Si, mama.” Nic knew enough not to argue with her when she was angry.
Stopping himself before he gave his father one last look of annoyance—pissing his mom off wasn’t going to do him any favors—he left the room in a huff. He stormed through the living room, ignoring his sisters who were trying very hard to look like they weren’t listening to the copious amounts of muffledSpanish curses coming from Dad’s office, and went to his room, slamming the door behind him as he sat on his bed. After sitting still for only a moment, the irritation of what had just happened all caught up to him at once, and Nic suddenly slammed the top half of his body face down, screaming his frustrations into his pillows.
Why did his dad have to be such an asshole?
It was maybe an hour later when Nic heard someone knocking at his bedroom door.
“Nicolas… It’s your father.”
Nic rolled his eyes but sat up on the edge of the bed. “Come in.”
Raphael opened the door and closed it behind him before pulling out Nic’s desk chair and having a seat, facing Nic on the bed.
“Your mother says she won’t let me eat dinner until we talk,” he attempted to joke.
Nic snorted but said nothing, continuing to stare at the floor.
“I’m sorry for yelling earlier,” Raphael started to apologize. “Have you … always hated football?”
“I don’thatefootball, Dad.” Nic sighed. “I just don’t think it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.”
“How long have you felt this way?” he asked with concern.
“I think it really only started in the last year or two,” Nic started to explain. “Once people started talking about college and going pro, I just started to think that maybe it wasn’t something I really wanted to make a career of. Football is fun, but it’s also exhausting and time consuming, and ithurts. Thinking about doing it for the next ten or twenty years just twists my stomach.”
“I had no idea, mijo. I’m sorry,” Raph apologized sincerely. “I was never trying to push you into something you didn’twanna do. I always thought you and I could talk about anything together.”
“Well, that’s kind of the problem, Dad. We don’t really talk at all,” Nic continued his explanation. “You were always into my little league and middle school games, but once I hit high school, it became the only thing you ever talked about. It was always about how practices were going or when the next game was or how great me winning was.” Nic paused, having something of an epiphany. “I think that might actually be one of the reasons I don’t really like it that much anymore.”
“As you and your sisters got older, I knew less and less how to talk to you.” Raphael sighed. “It was so simple when you were little. All I had to do was focus on the things Ithoughtyou liked, instead of trying to learn anything new.” He sighed again. “I’m a shit father.”
“You’re not shit, Dad.” It was Nic’s turn to comfort his parent. “You just need to talk to us more. We’re older, but we’re still your kids. We just like more things than just football and shopping. I can’t speak for Gabby or Dani, but you should probably talk to them too.”
“I’m still sorry, Nic.” Raph nodded. “I know this doesn’t make up for anything, but I hope it’s a start.”
Nic nodded as well. This was by far the best talk he’d had with his dad in years. Itwasa start.
“So, back to college and St. Helena’s…” Raph tentatively turned the conversation back to the sensitive subject that started all this. “I still think you should play football in college.”
Nic cocked an eyebrow and squared his jaw. Was his dad being serious? “Dad, wejusttalk—”
“Hear me out.” Raphael held his hands out in front of him to ease Nic. “Not for St. Helena’s or any school you don’t want to. But these schools are offering you a full ride. Tuition, room and board, everything. You don’t have to go pro. You canstudy whatever you want, wherever you want. You’ve put in a lot of work the last four years on the field. Youearnedthose scholarships. I don’t think you should throw all of that away. At least hear what some of the schools have to offer and then make a decision. And if youreallydon’t want to play ball anymore, we can still afford to send you to college. Just hear them out.”
