Fiction/Drama
Assumptions — Senior Year — Chapter Nine
Ash West
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High School (n) — where self-esteem, innocence, and dreams go to die (unknown)
“One more mile, boy, let’s go.” My dad, the Officer West of the Bayshore Police Department, ran alongside me. We’d been at this for almost fifteen minutes. I’d been awake since five this morning for this run, which I hated with every cell in my body.
It was the five-mile jog he’s had me doing since the beginning of summer. Since I was a senior, my last year of football, and he wanted me to play college ball and get on the police force, none of which I’d ever agreed to do, Officer West lowered the time in which we got the run completed. I had to do it in under thirty minutes.
I still had to get back home, get showered, and make it to school in time for the first eight o’clock class. My girl, Reagan, sounded as pissed off as a person could be over text messages, lots and lots of emojis.
I was supposed to pick her up in my almost new, okay, ten-year-old, dual-wheely pickup truck I’d saved forever to buy. Mom, God rest her soul, helped by slipping me some money for odd jobs I had done around the house since I was a kid. Dad preached that I should do chores without pay, it was what a good son would do. But Mom felt the need to compensate me because she knew what my end goal was, a truck.
Dad had changed. He’d grown more disciplined, more hateful, and more demanding since my mom died a year ago.
It wasn’t that she was sick, or an accident-sort of death. She was murdered. Left to die in an alley. No one knew why she was there in the first place. She had her shopping bags still clutched in her fingers when bystanders found her after they heard the gunshots.
It wasn’t a robbery. Nothing was taken. There weren’t any witnesses, or more like, no one was talking. This was a quiet community, nothing bad ever happened here until this event. It was still an open case. My dad kept tight-lipped about any leads that were secretly divulged.
“Let’s go, boy.” Dad took the lead.
I pushed myself to keep pace and finally overtook him on the last stretch of the run. I sprinted up the three steps leading to the porch and almost collapsed as I rushed onward into the house.
Dad followed a close step behind. He hated to lose, but yet, so did I. I despised having him win. He constantly degraded me and told me I wouldn’t get anywhere in life if I didn’t put any effort into it.
I didn’t know what the fuck he thought I’d been doing for the past twelve years of school. I was maintaining above-average grades, starting quarterback with every team I’d played for, and potential scholarships for college if this year turned out well in football and academically.
“I’m going to grab a shower. It’s the first day of school today.”
“Got practice afterward?” Dad walked the opposite way to go to his room at the other end of the house.
“Yes, sir.” I grabbed clean linens out of the hallway closet.
“Good. Make sure you go.” Those were Dad’s parting words as he shut the bedroom door behind him.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll have an excellent first day of senior year.” I mumbled under my breath as I rushed to get a quick shower.
