Page 71 of Fighting Fate

"Total dream," Miles mouths behind the phone, teasing me. And just because of that, I want to look absolutely stunning, a total dream to him.

I flash a grin as I settle back onto my barstool. "Thanks, Mrs. C., I'm honestly excited to find something like it."

But let's be real, what I'm really eager for is to see how Miles will react when he lays eyes on me in a dress like that.

Mrs. Chasen smiles. "I can't wait to see you in it. I'm sure you'll look absolutely stunning!"

With a smile of my own, I use my finger to signal Miles to shift the camera's focus back to him.

He swiftly complies, knowing exactly how to reassure his parents. "Mom, Dad, the doctor's appointment went well," he states confidently.

Despite his words, his expression betrays a hint of something else, and I file that away for later.

"He assured me everything's okay," Miles continues, and relief washes over his parents' faces. "I've got to go. Tutoring session awaits."

Their goodbyes are filled with love and warmth. Mrs. Chasen's parting words, "Can't wait to talk to your mom, Milli," echo with a hint of excitement.

Yeah, because tutoring Miles is the height of gossip-worthy . . . Not.

"See you at the gala in two weeks," I respond, maintaining my cheerful facade.

As Miles ends the call, he seems to relax, the tension visibly draining from him. I reach over, offering a comforting back rub, and his signature grin reappears.

He teases, "There you go again, Mills, always saving the day."

I suppress a laugh, maintaining my composure. "What can I say? I'm the best."

His gentle push comes with a whisper, "Don't I know it, Baby Sutton," accompanied by a wink that sends a warm tingle through my core.

And that flutter down there? Yeah, it's escalated into a full-blown sensation, pooling right between my legs. I'm kind of itching to do whatever it takes to earn another one of those cheeky winks.

Ever had one of those days where everything just feels misaligned, as if your body and mind are on completely different wavelengths? Today's that day for me, where not even my go-to songs can chase away the persistent gloom, and my thoughts are caught in a tumultuous storm of doubt.

I'm caught in a constant hustle, darting from one university class to another, finding fleeting moments of peace on the football field. But overshadowing this routine is the exhausting wait for updates from my doctors. The annual cancer screening has come and gone, leaving me in a limbo of silence that's excruciating. My thoughts are ensnared in a relentless cycle of what ifs. What if the cancer has returned? What if the scan results are unfavorable? Logically, I know I should be in the clear, but logic seldom soothes the gnawing fears.

Amidst this turmoil, here I am, in the heart of our football field, preparing for tomorrow's game. The sight is overwhelming—a grand symphony of senses. The colossal stands reach toward the sky, each seat silently awaiting its fan. The field stretches out, a vibrant green canvas under the open sky.

This moment is an adrenaline rush. It makes me wonder about the possibility of a life in the NFL—playing on different fields, soaking up each exhilarating second.

But is that really what I want?

At twenty-one, it feels impossible to have life all figured out. The pressure to choose between a potential NFL career and my dream of becoming a doctor weighs heavily on me. Medicine feels like a calling, but it's laden with high expectations from myself and others.

Then there's the allure of the NFL, a path my dad once pursued before his own sacrifices for my cancer battle. Stepping onto that field, experiencing the roar of the crowd, and honoring my dad's legacy calls at me.

With Panthers' Day, the gala, and the MCAT on the horizon, I'm swamped with a sense of being overwhelmed. The one silver lining this week has been acing my statistics midterm. Clearly, tutoring sessions with Milli are paying off. It's not that I ever doubted their value, but the relief of having one less stressor is palpable. Now, I just need to tackle the final exam and then move forward. It's like life itself, isn't it? We keep moving, taking a step forward each day. But amidst all this, I wonder how I'm going to manage the complexities of the real world when managing college life already feels like a high-wire act.

On top of these personal challenges, there's the societal pressure to have every aspect of your future mapped out—career, marriage, children. The very thought adds a layer of weight to my shoulders. I can almost see the excitement in my mom's eyes when we eventually delve into these topics. But for me, it's not just excitement; it's an ever-growing list of expectations I'm not sure I'm ready to meet.

"Are you just going to keep daydreaming, or are you going to run the ball?" Coach's voice pulls me back to the present.

I casually pivot my shoulder to check out the scene—him and the gang of teammates are staring at me like I've grown a second head. I shrug it off and say, "Eh, I don't know. It's kinda nice."

But the truth is, my vision's blurring again, making it hard to focus. I've been dismissing it as bad throws, but is that really all it is?

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to push away the worry. Coach joins me, his hand on my shoulder. "Not too bad, huh?"

And for a fleeting moment, the tension building inside me dissipates as I crack up at the sheer absurdity of the situation. I can only imagine what my teammates must be thinking, witnessing the two of us staring up at the sky as if we've just spotted a UFO.