Page 65 of Fighting Fate
I'm on the verge of escaping to my room when Gunner and Devon barge in.
How on earth did they get in? Luke and I are almost obsessive about locking the door. Then it clicks—Cam flashes a set of keys with a triumphant wink. That wink, it's so him—cocky, mischievous. I narrow my eyes, curiosity tinged with suspicion rising within me. But before I can delve deeper, Gunner and Devon slide what appears to be an invitation across the kitchen counter.
Shit. How could that slip my mind? It's an annual thing, always around this time of year. I know too well the weight it carries, the financial burden it brings. Yeah, my dad was a pro footballer, but after he retired, and with my frequent hospital stays and rehab sessions, the bills just kept mounting.
Suddenly, I'm transported back to those tough times, to hushed conversations that no child should ever have to eavesdrop on.
"Goddammit, Denise, this is the second call we've gotten from collections about Miles' hospital bills."
Walking back and forth in our big kitchen, Mom looked really worried. She was like this whenever Dad started to get mad at her, saying things needed to be different. But how could they be? My sickness wasn't going away, and neither were the bills that kept growing.
I peeked from behind the big pole in our dining room, trying to hide. Mom sighed really loud. "I know, Sean. There's not much I can do, can I?"
She threw her hands up, and I knew what Dad was going to say. It was always the same. "Well, if I hadn't given up my job, we wouldn't be in this mess, right?"
I shut my eyes for a moment as Mom looked surprised, just like she always did when Dad talked about his old job. It was something he said all the time when money, promises, or the fact that he had to go to the hospital more often because of my pain came up.
Did he really think that ignoring the bills, skipping my rehab, or avoiding the hospital would make everything better if he still had his old job? Was I really such a big problem for him?
"You don't mean that, Sean. I know you don't," Mom said to him with kindness, moving closer and giving him a warm hug. He closed his eyes, feeling comfort in her embrace, while she gently rubbed his back. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. "We'll make it through this, baby."
"We've got 'The Little Stars of Hope Foundation' coming up. You know how much it helps us, and we still have some of our savings," she softly reminded him.
He just held her a little tighter and nodded, his way of showing he appreciated her strength and support.
I've witnessed how the power of a united community can make a real difference in the lives of those fighting cancer, and it goes way beyond the football field. It's about standing together for a cause greater than ourselves, like Coach Kreft's wife and her battle with breast cancer. She's been in and out of hospitals, enduring what I went through. Coach even had to skip some games to be by her side.
"Chasen, are you in?" Luke asks, raising an eyebrow, snapping me out of my reverie. I shoot him a knowing look—he's well aware I never miss these events.
"Do we have to go to this thing?" Cam asks, reluctance coloring his tone. "It's on a Sunday, my chill day."
His words prick me with a hint of annoyance, yet I swiftly control the flare-up. Cam is unaware of the profound bond I have with this cause. He remains in the dark about my personal fight against cancer, a battle intimately known only to my family, the Suttons, and Coach Kreft. Gaining admission to NorthRidge necessitated a comprehensive medical examination, making it impossible to keep this chapter of my life concealed.
Grabbing the invitation, I place it front and center on the fridge. Turning to face my three mentees with a stern look, I point at them firmly. "You're all going. No excuses."
Expecting Cam to retort, I'm pleasantly surprised when they all nod in agreement, a wave of relief washing over me. The last thing I need is to coax them into attending when I just want to enjoy the event on my own terms.
Luke watches me, a slight shake of his head and a small smile betraying his amusement. He's familiar with the dynamics of mentoring, though his group is less rowdy than mine. He claims I complain more about my freshman than he does, but sometimes you just need to vent, right?
"In answer to your question, Luke, absolutely. I'll be there," I assure him.
Luke's smirk teases. "Always the early bird, aren't you?"
A chuckle escapes me, lightening the mood. Nodding, I know I'll be the one arriving early, setting up, not just making a grand entrance. I prefer being hands-on rather than just another face in the crowd.
"Always first in line," I affirm, ruffling Gunner, Cam, and Devon's hair playfully as I pass by them.
Cam appears slightly annoyed as he tries to smooth his hair back into place. "What was that for?"
I internally roll my eyes. First, he's grumbling about minor bruises, now he's fussy over a bit of hair ruffling. What minor inconvenience will he complain about next?
I simply brush it aside, observing as Devon and Gunner initiate a mock tussle, dragging Cam into their friendly chaos with light jabs and teasing remarks.
Retreating to my room, I flop onto my bed and pull out my phone, lost in thought. A dilemma plays in my mind.
Should I text her? Just a quick message to check in, or should I just leave it be?
Relationships, emotions, connections—they're complicated, especially when my future might lead me across the country in a year's time.