Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
When I’d told Oscar my reason for needing a job was personal, he’d just nodded, asked when I could start and told me that I should provide him with my game and practice schedule each week and he’d figure it out.
I was sweaty and exhausted after practice, and now I had to rush home, shower, and get my ass to Shenanigans. Why had I thought this was a good idea again?
Oh, and I had to tell Coach and the guys. Because that wouldn’t be weird at all.
“Coach, can I talk to you for a second?” I jogged over to him.
“What’s up, Langley? Looking good out there. Your dad will be happy to hear it.”
I forced myself not to roll my eyes. My dad was an FU alum and had donated enough money to the school that he could basically do whatever he wanted. He was one to take advantage of that too. “Thanks, sir. I’m feeling good. Ready to bring home that championship again.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“Listen…I, um…” My gaze darted to Watty, Collins, and Ford, who were chillin’ close by, waiting for me. Fuck. I’d hoped they would go on without me. “I have some personal things going on, and I had to get a job. It won’t get in the way of lacrosse or school. I made sure the schedules don’t overlap.”
Coach frowned. He had to be wondering what personal things I could have going on where I needed a job and why my dad hadn’t mentioned it. “I can’t pretend I’m not concerned. Your first responsibility needs to be to this team, but I can’t stop you. I think you should consider what’s important to you, though.”
My first responsibility should be to the team? Not even class or my future? Or hell, what if I needed the money? But then, why would I? They all knew who my dad was—well, as much as anyone ever did. I’d thought I’d known who he was too.
“Lacrosse comes first. I know that. It won’t interfere. I promise.”
“It better not, Langley. The team is counting on you. I’m counting on you.”
Way to pressure a guy. My shoulders felt like they might fold due to the weight. “You can count on me.”
He hesitated. When he spoke again, I wasn’t surprised when he asked, “What does your dad have to say about this?”
“It has nothing to do with him.” I straightened my spine, hoping he saw I was serious, because I mean, fuck this. I was twenty-one years old. I didn’t need my father’s permission to work.
Coach gave me a simple nod and walked away. That was it. No worry. No concern over why I might need a job. Not that I would have told him the truth, but still. All I was to him was a way to win.
“Wanna repeat that?” Watty asked.
“I got a job, you fucker.” We headed toward the locker room. Please don’t ask why I said this has nothing to do with my dad.
“Why would you do a dumbass thing like that?” Collins asked.
“My dad…cut me off,” I lied. Hopefully they’d think that’s why I said it had nothing to do with Dad, and not mention it again. I didn’t want Coach to know I said I’d been cut off, especially if he talked to Dad. “He wants me to get a taste of what the real world is like. I don’t know. Parents fucking suck.” It was a lot easier than telling them the truth. I would die before I admitted how big of an asshole my father was.
“Shit, man. What a prick. I can’t believe he’s doing this at the beginning of the season your junior year.” Ford smacked me on the shoulder.
“I know, right? What a dickhead.” Hello, my name is Ty, and I’m a lying liar who lied. Well, my dad was a dickhead, but the rest of it was bullshit. The thing was, I didn’t know if the guys would get it. Even if I did tell them what my dad did, would they understand why I wanted nothing to do with him? Why I didn’t want to need or depend on him? Why I wanted to forge my own way? “He played in college and worked or some shit like that, so he thinks I need to do the same.”
“Sucks for you,” Collins said, and they all laughed.
Way to show support, guys.
“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to it. Plus, I have to work with Braxton.”
“Emo Asshole Bartender totally wishes you were dead,” Ford taunted.
“He’s not emo.”
“But he’s an asshole who wishes you were dead?” Watty chimed in.
“Yep. That about covers it.” I still didn’t get why I found that so hot or why I was looking forward to spending more time with him. “Anyway, I gotta bail. Talk to you guys later.”