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telling myself that, hoping my heart will slow down. Drenched in sweat, I go to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. I need to pull my shit together.
    I check my phone and see I’ve missed a call from Davis. The Mathis Foundation wants to have a conference call to discuss my possible involvement. Davis says I’m the guy they really want, but they also have two other choices. They want to speak with all of us this weekend, and since today’s Saturday, they want to speak with me this morning so as not to disturb my prep for tomorrow’s game.
    I’m not sure why I was worried about being passed over, but that feeling vanishes as soon as we start discussing the ideas I’d had when I’d been thinking about starting up my own foundation. I tell the board about my plan to give video game systems to the local group homes, and they eat it up. They even offer to have the foundation match my donations with items that go along with the gifts, like controllers and games. By the end of our phone call—which may have been a meeting or an interview, I’m not really sure—it’s obvious that I’m all for hopping aboard and being the front man for the foundation, and they are equally eager to have me.
    Thinking about being the next Tony Mathis is enough to distract me from the jumbled mess of things in my head—until I get to practice. Saturday practices are always easy and laid back, more like hanging out than work, and I find myself wishing that Coach had come up with some new plays or something for me to memorize—anything to distract me from my thoughts of Ashley. I guess the only way I’m going to work through this mess is to talk to the only people in the world who will tell me the truth and still have my back: my parents.
    After practice, I find myself in their driveway once more, sitting in my car, reminiscing about childhood memories again before getting out and heading up the porch stairs. When I reach the top, Ma appears in the doorway.
    “I was wondering how long you were going to sit out here in the car, honey.”
    “Hey, Ma, how are you?” I ask, hugging her tightly.
    “I’m doing well. Better than you, it seems.” She grabs my face and makes me look her in the eye.
    “I’m fine, Ma. I’ve got news to tell you and Dad, some good and some not so good.”
    “Come in. I’ll put on the tea kettle.”
    I follow her in, closing the front door behind me.
    “Andrew, Tanner is here,” my mom calls out to my dad, who’s most likely back in the family room watching television.
    Sure enough, Dad appears in the doorway of the family room a moment later before coming into the kitchen to greet me. “Hey, Son,” he says, giving me a hug. “What brings you here this evening?”
    “He needs to talk, dear,” Ma answers, turning on the stove. She still thinks tea fixes everything.
    Dad sits down at the table motioning for me to do the same. “What’s going on?”
    “I got the idea to start my own foundation for underprivileged kids, so I contacted Davis about it. After working his magic, he found out that the Tony Mathis Foundation is looking for a new spokesman and would love to have me. I spoke with the board this morning about everything, and we came to an agreement that I’m comfortable with and I’ll be accepting. They’re working on the contract and whatnot with Davis now, but you’re looking at the new face of Mathis,” I tell them with a smile on my face.
    “That’s fantastic, honey.” Ma beams at me.
    “Yes, that’s quite a role. They couldn’t have found a better person,” Dad says with a smile on his face that radiates pride. Let’s hope that it’s still there in a few minutes.
    “That’s not the only thing wanted to talk to you about though,” I tell them.
    “Okay, what else is going on?” Dad asks.
    “Honestly, I think I screwed up something big… My mind is all over the place right now. I don’t know what to believe, and I can’t think straight anymore.”
    “Why