Page 28 of Ruthless Blade

"You're almost failing Chemistry."

"I know. I've been working to bring it up. Mrs. Brown said I can do extra credit..."

"I don't care about extra credit." He looked at me, and there was no warmth in his gaze. Good ole Dad. A dick like normal.

"Do you understand what a transcript like this does to your recruiting profile? Scouts talk to academic advisors, Kayden. Programs run background checks on more than just your slap shot."

"I've had a lot going on.”

"Everyone on your team has a lot going on. That’s no excuse.”

My mind drifted to his and Mom’s nasty divorce proceedings. He may’ve thought it didn’t affect me, but it did. There was a reason I was never around. Why I stayed at Jake's until I overstayed my welcome.

"I'll fix it," I said instead, wanting this conversation to be over. I didn’t want him involved in any part of my life. He didn’t care before when he was fucking his secretary, he shouldn’t now. "I'll talk to my teacher tomorrow."

"You'll do better than that. I'm hiring a tutor. Three nights a week, starting Monday." He said it like it was already decided, which it was, the way most things in my life got decided without my input. "And I want to see your grades weekly from now on. Every Friday, you show me your progress."

"Dad, I'm seventeen, not seven."

"Then start acting like someone who understands what's actually at stake here." His voice sharpened, and I shrunk back. "You have one shot at this. One. The draft doesn't wait around for kids who can't manage their time. You think there isn't a kid in Ohio or Michigan with your exact skill set who also happens to have a 4.0? Programs choose the whole package, Kayden."

"I’ve had a rough few months. I was dealing with..."

Fuck, I should’ve never gone there.

I stopped myself before I said it. Before I said Jake's name, before I brought up the fact that my best friend made me swear off the girl I’d been pining for. Or the fact that Mom was no longer around. She wasn’t around much before, but now it was like she’d written me off completely. Her husband having an affair was an excuse to move on with her life and forget she had a son who existed.

"Dealing with what?" he asked, and for one brief second something almost like genuine curiosity flickered across his face.

I let the moment pass. "Nothing. Just a lot on my plate."

"Well, welcome to being an athlete with real prospects. There's always going to be a lot on your plate. The ones who make it figure out how to carry it." He tapped the report card once. "Tutor starts Monday. I expect this grade above a B by the end of semester, or we will be having a very different conversation about hockey."

"Understood," I stood and reached for my bag, ready to get away from him.

"Kayden," he said, stopping me as I was already in the doorway.

"I'm not doing this to be hard on you." His voice had softened by a fraction, though it still carried more strategy than warmth. "I'm doing this because I know what you're capable of, and I'm not going to watch you throw it away because you didn't manage your time properly. You understand that, right? This is for you."

The inner me scoffed. As good as it sounded, it wasn’t for me. It was for him. He was living vicariously through me.

I shook my head, deciding not to respond. I went up to my room, dropped my bag on the floor, and sat on the edge of the bed staring at nothing for a long time. My phone rang, and I reached in my pocket to see who it was.

Mom.

My teeth grated together, the thought of talking to her made me want to vomit. I answered anyway.

“What do you want?”

“That’s no way to greet your mother, honey.” Her voice was sickly sweet, as if she was trying to be nice so she could get something from me. That’s all our relationship was nowadays. I never saw her and she would randomly call out of the blue asking for something. It was rare that I answered the phone when she did.

“Maybe I would be nicer if you actually cared.”

She scoffed, “How can you say that to me? I care. Your father is the one who cheated.”

“And you’re the one who left. No one ever said you had to stick around, but you wrote me off completely. Like you didn’t carry me for nine fucking months, or that you didn’t raise me for sixteen years. How does a parent leave their kid like that? You have to get a divorce, fine. But there are many cases where parents share custody. You gave Dad full custody, and you haven’t even once asked to see me. So, what the actual fuck, Mom?”

She sighed, and there was a sound on the phone that sounded like a sniffle. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have left you like that...”