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Mr. Preston always jokes that’s why he keeps her around and that Josie better learn how to cook if she plans to keep me happy.
    Once we’re done she crawls in between my legs and rests her head on my shoulder. I hold her in my arms as we watch the sunset, casting the perfect glow over the river. I could sit like this every day and not have a care in the world. Unfortunately, it will be back to reality for me as soon as I get home. The pile of college letters will be sitting there and Sterling will be looking at his calendar to schedule visits. None of which I want to go on. I want to sit here and hold my girl and watch this sunset over and over again because right now it’s my favorite time of the day.

Chapter 8
    M y father’s office light is on when I pull into our driveway. I was hoping that he wouldn’t be here when I came home. The last thing I want to do is talk to him. We have nothing civil to say to each other and we definitely don’t agree on my college career path. He wants me to play in the SEC and I want to do anything but. The schools in the SEC are fantastic, but it’s the fact that it’s what Sterling wants that makes me want to avoid every single recruiter that comes knocking, just to spite him.
    I carry my football gear into the house through the garage and leave it by the basement door for my mom to wash. Drunk or not, she’s a master at getting out the grass stains. The kitchen is dark and empty with everything from dinner – if they even had dinner – put away. My mom wasn’t waiting for me to come home at all and if she was, I have no doubt that Sterling told her that I would not be eating since I didn’t go home after practice.
    I have rules that I break often. My father doesn’t think I need a social life unless he approves of who it’s with. I can date any of the socialites from the country club or any of his business partners’ daughters, but he won’t acknowledge that I’m in love with Josie Preston. She’s not good enough for me and she doesn’t deserve to be on the arm of a Westbury.
    Imagine being fifteen and asking a girl out for the first time only to have your father tell you she’s trash. I don’t know if it was that moment that I knew I hated my father or not. What I did know was that it didn’t matter what he said about Josie, I was going to be with her.
    The television is on in the family room and I can hear ice dropping into a glass. I could stop in there and say hi to my mom, but by now she’s had so much vodka that she’s in a haze. And what’s the point? It’s not like she’s going to ask how my day was. But I want to talk to her. I want her to ask. I want her to care. I don’t think it’s too much to want at least one parent to give a shit about you, is it?
    Standing in the foyer, I need to make a decision before it’s too late. I can climb the stairs to my room or I can go in and try to communicate with my mom. I step toward the family room only to be halted by the clearing of his throat. I stalled too long. I should’ve dropped my gear off and high-tailed my ass upstairs as soon as I got home. He usually doesn’t bother me if I’m in my room, but out here I’m fair game.
    “Where have you been?”
    “Out,” I say, knowing this answer will not suffice and only piss him off more. I turn around to face my father. He’s still dressed in his three-piece business suit with his tie barely loosened. Sterling Westbury stands at six feet two, one inch taller than me. He was also the starting quarterback in high school. He was awarded a full-ride to Auburn, but was red-shirted by the coach his freshman year and tore up his ACL the next day. My dad never started a college game and the one he played in ruined his career. I’ve heard the story many times growing and when you are six and seven, you want to be like your father. But then you start having dreams of your own and most parents let you run with those, except I’m his dream. Everything he didn’t