Page 11 of The Pass Protection
One thing my mom despises more than anything is tattoos. She doesn’t understand why anyone would want to mark their skin permanently. While I know her feelings on the matter, it’s one of our generational differences. And at the end of the day, I need to live for me. Every single one of the designs I’ve had inked into my skin means something to me.
“Are we going to ignore the fact that I walked into this apartment to find my daughter and her roommates half naked?” Dad glances at me, his face laced with concern.
With a heavy sigh, I fiddle with the pillow resting on my lap. “Dad, please, we were only playing video games. I refuse to be fully dressed when it’s socially acceptable for men to walk around without a shirt on. It’s not like I was topless. Besides, you know these guys. You know they’re good people.”
“Yes, they are, but you’re—”
“No, buts,” I interrupt. “This is my home, and I refuse to be uncomfortable in it.”
“Sweetie.” Mom’s voice cuts through the tension that is starting to build. “I think it’s great you wanted to move home to be closer to us. Your room is still yours at the house, and I think it’d be best for you to come home—clearly, something isn’t right in your life. Dad has to be on campus early every morning so you can commute with him. Or better yet, move into Grant’s extra bedroom.”
“No, absolutely not.” My eyes bounce from my mom to my dad. “I appreciate the offer, I truly do, but I’m twenty years old. I’m not moving home with my parents. And there’s no way in hell Grant and I are living together again. As much as I love my brother, we’d kill each other.”
“Bret,” Dad starts, but my glare cuts him off.
Standing from my spot on the bed, my chest heaving with the overwhelming sense that they are about to force me to move home. “I signed a lease, and this is where I want to be. I want to live here. I love you both, but right now you’re treating me like a child.”
“And we love you, sweetheart.” Mom’s voice wobbles as I watch moisture gather in her eyes.
Unlike most kids, I have an incredibly healthy relationship with my parents. Some days they’re overbearing, but it’s only because their love for me and my brother runs deep. At the end of the day, they only want us to succeed in life.
Are some of their views on life a little old school? Yes, but I don’t fault them for that. Growing up, we were fortunate to never go without. Our life wasn’t extravagant, and even though my dad has been a high-profile coach, they taught us the value of money. We moved around a lot—it was the hazard of my dad’s job. But no matter where we went and the people we met, our family was the most important. Itwas the one thing in our life that would never change. It’s why Grant and I are so close. We were each other’s best friends because finding and keeping friendships was tough.
Even now, I know their concern stems from love, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t put their feelings first. If I had, I would’ve given them the heads-up that I was transferring and moving in with a group of guys. But there are some things I need to do on my own. I need to make adult decisions and live with the consequences.
“I promise I’m okay, or at least I will be. Life is hard, and I’m learning that. But you both raised Grant and me right. We know the difference between right and wrong, good and bad. You just need to trust that the lessons you’ve been teaching us along the way will get us through life.” I pause, giving them a small smile. “Besides, I know if I need anything, your door is always open.”
“Always, Bretster.” Dad crosses the room and pulls me into his chest. “I love you, kid.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
Lifting his head, his voice grows louder. “And I’ll kick anyone’s ass who hurts my baby girl. I don’t care if they’re on my team or not.”
My chuckle is smothered by his chest. I have no doubt the boys heard him from where they’re probably eavesdropping in the living room. The walls in this place are ridiculously thin.
Mom sidles up next to us, and I pull her in for a group hug. “We know you’re a big girl, but it’s hard for us to wrap our heads around it sometimes. We trust you, Bret, and want you to be safe. There are days and moments when I’m hard on you, but I hope you know you don’t have to keep things from us. We’ll always support you, sweetheart.”
Popping a kiss on my mom’s cheek, I squeeze her harder.
Our hug breaks, and everyone takes a step back. Swiping underneath my eyes, I gather the tears that have started to pour over my lids.
“If you’re sure you’re good, we’ll get out of your hair.” Dad assesses my face.
With a reassuring expression, I nod. “Yeah, I’m good. I need to get ready for bed anyway. You know, big first day tomorrow.”
“You’ve got this, Bretster,” Dad muses, rubbing his hand on my head like he did when I was a kid.
I grumble under my breath, and he chuckles. Mom gives me one last hug before they turn to leave the room. I follow behind, watching the guys startle and try to make it look like they weren’t eavesdropping.
With a knowing smirk, I watch as they all try to hide their grins. Harris is in my direct sight line and gives me a smirk with a wink.
“Take care of my girl, or you’ll be doing burpees every practice for a month.” Dad’s stern coach voice comes through as he threatens my roommates.
All three of them nod and say in unison, “Yes, sir.”
I watch my parents slide out the door, and with my arms crossed across my chest, I sigh. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
I can do this.
