Page 104 of So This Is War
“Well, I don’t understand your question, so how can I answer it?” I say as I sit on my bed.
“Yesterday, with Posey, you seemed . . . intimate. What was that?”
“It was me asking him a question,” I say. “There was nothing intimate about it besides how close he was standing, but that’s because it was loud out on the ice.”
“You were touching him.”
“Because he had something on his jersey. As his assistant, I need to make sure he looks the best that he can look.”
“So nothing is going on between the two of you? Because if there is, I can guarantee you right now, everything that we agreed upon will be revoked. This job will be taken away, you will owe me tuition payments, and you are on your own. I’ll not be fucked with. My players are off limits. You know that.”
Grinding my teeth together, I say, “Is that your true opinion about me, Dad? That I would just throw everything away, my chance at proving you wrong about me and my career path, over some guy?”
“I don’t know, Wylie. It seems to me like you’re throwing a lot away recently.”
I twist my lips to the side, trying not to lash out at him—because it won’t do anything. I’ve done it before, where I’ve yelled, trying to get my point across, but that only resulted in an angry father who doesn’t understand me. Someone who tells me that I’m disrespecting him by raising my voice.
So I hold back my temper and calmly say, “Nothing is going on between me and Levi. Absolutely nothing. I’m just doing my job and doing my job well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” Without saying goodbye, I hang up on him and toss my phone on my bed.
I press my hands into my face and let out a disgruntled growl of frustration. And for the millionth time in my life, I ask the same questions that I’m sure I’ll never get answers to.
Why?
Why did my mom have to leave him?
Why did she have to leave me with him?
It’s not fair.
My entire life I’ve felt like I’ve had to walk on eggshells around him, judge his mood, and try to fall in line to avoidmaking his mood worse. He says he loves me, but this isn’t love. This isn’t how a parent should treat their child. I’ve watched Sandie with her parents, how they treat her. Parents are supposed to be loving and supportive.
And sure, yes, I’ve been messing around with Levi because I’m irritated with him for being a part of this master plan my dad constructed, but would I have crossed that line with him . . .
Maybe.
Now, will I?
No.
Fuck, no.
That’s a big fucking no and all because my dad thinks I have no willpower. That he believes instead of doing a job, I’m over here just fucking one of his players.
Well, my dad can fuck right off.
I stand and wipe at my watery eyes.
It’s fine, you’re fine, everything is fine.
I take a few deep breaths, straighten my shoulders, and then head down the hallway toward the kitchen to meet up with Levi.
This phone call was a good wake-up call. Last night was as well. He told me not to cross the line, so I won’t. I’m done messing with him. Now it’s time to focus on what really matters, and that’s making something of myself.
Not for my dad . . . but for me.
When I enter the kitchen, Levi is at the island with one of the many bagels I’ve purchased for him. He paired it with eggs to make a sandwich, and I’m grateful he’s eating it. So grateful that it nearly makes me cry. I feel like I’ve been put through the wringer of emotions this past week, so to see him eat that bagel, one that I’ve lost sleep over, well, it does something to me.
“Morning.” He studies me for a second before asking, “Are you okay?”
