Chris' smile froze when he saw the look on his father's face.
"Did you really think you could make that throw?"
"Yes, I did." Chris squared his shoulders and stepped in front of his father.
Mike stood right beside him, solid as a rock. "Anyone else would've thrown an interception."
"I've seen him make tougher throws than that." Mel moved beside Mike.
"We all have." Robyn looked Clinton in the eye. "And that includes you."
"At least your cheerleaders believe in you," Clinton sneered. "But they won't impress the sports agents. You need to do that on your own."
Chris rolled his eyes. "We're not having this conversation again."
"Yes, we are. You don't seem to be getting it."
"I'm not getting it?"
"This is your senior year. This is your last chance to enter the draft."
Chris' jaw clenched, but he didn't say a word.
Robyn moved closer and put her arm around his waist. Mike crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Clinton. Mel's expression was just short of pity.
It was long past time to tell his father everything. Chris knew his father wasn't in the mood to listen, but he would tell him anyway. Encouraged by the support of his friends, Chris decided he was done letting Clinton dictate his future.
"Dad, there's something you need to know."
"Damn it, Chris, this is your career we're talking about." Clinton started pacing in front of the four friends.
"No, it's not."
"Your next game has to be flawless."
"No, it doesn't." Since Chris had chosen his own path, he'd started playing football for the fun of it, and was enjoying it a lot more.
"I've got some connections. I'll make a few calls and get someone with influence to come to your next game." Charles pulled out his cell phone.
"No, you won't."
"It's no problem. All I need to do is—"
"Dad, you need to shut up and listen to me for once in your life!"
Clinton stopped short, clicked his phone off and stared at Chris. "What?"
"Listen to me." He looked his father in the eyes, as if that would open his ears. "I'm not going to play in the NFL."
"That's not funny." Clinton brushed him off and resumed dialing.
"I'm not joking. I'm not entering the draft." Chris held his ground, waiting for his father to turn back.
"You still have time." Clinton put the phone to his ear. "Hey, John, how are you? Listen, you need to see my son play—"
"Dad! Listen to what I have to say, and don't say another word until I'm finished." Chris grabbed his phone and tossed it to Mike. "Got it?"
"What the hell?" Clinton crossed his arms over his chest and stared his son down.
Chris swallowed hard. "I never fully recovered from that knee injury freshman year. I talked to a few coaches and agents and they told me I might get drafted, but I'd never play as a starter, and I probably wouldn't play more than a couple of years. I talked to Mom about it and—"
"Your mother knows?"
"Let me finish. Mom encouraged me to find another career. She helped me find out what my other interests and talents were."
"She never told me."
She doesn't like you. "She left that up to me. I decided I wanted go into sports medicine. I want to help other athletes like me."
"Sports medicine?"
"Yes." Chris fought the temptation to defend his choice, but he decided he didn't have to explain anything more.
"So you'll be what—a trainer?" Clinton spat the word.
"While I'm in med school, and then I plan to be a team doctor."
"Why not a coach? Coaches get Super Bowl rings."
Chris shook his head. "This is what I want to do. It's my choice."
That finally shut Clinton up, but not for long. "And you make such great choices. Just look at Raven here and compare her to Carmen." He gestured to the smiling broad with big boobs sitting all alone in the bleachers.
Chris shook his head. Apparently, the term girlfriend meant nothing to his dad.
He looked at Chris. The girl was beautiful, with a beaming smile and she wasn't afraid of showing off her mounds of cleavage whenever he looked her way. She was exactly his type.
He noticed that Robyn bit her lip when he took his arm away and put his hands on his hips. He stared at the pretty broad practically offering herself to him. Chris licked his lips, and Robyn looked like she was going to be sick.
Clinton rambled on. "She's pretty, she's perky, and when you get bored with her, she's easily replaced."
Robyn and Mel gasped. Even Mike raised an eyebrow.
Chris looked at Carmen one last time and shook his head, then took his girlfriend's hand and faced his father.
"You know, Dad, I used to think I was just like you—love 'em and leave 'em. No girl could hold on to me. I had a new girl every weekend. Hell, I could have a new girl every day of the week if I wanted to. I was the campus nigga everyone wanted to be with, the campus heartbreaker. I enjoyed it, was proud of it, even. But I was so busy using your pathetic failed relationships as an excuse for my pathetic behavior, that I didn't know I was hurting anyone."
Then it hit him. He had hurt women. He had made them cry. He'd done everything his mother had warned him not to.
He turned to Mel and took a deep breath. "Mel, I am so sorry I hurt you. You deserved better."
"She smiled, blinking back a couple of tears. "Thank you, Chris."
"Oh please." Clinton rolled his eyes.
"The funny thing is, Dad, that I just figured out I don't have to be like you. I don't want to be like you. I can be happy with one woman because I choose to be."
"You're young, Son. You have no idea what real life is like."
"You weren't around when I was in high school, so you don't know what I've been through. Life was a bitch back then, but I got through it without you."
"Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave you alone?"
"No, Dad, I just want you to back off a little—okay, a lot—and if I'm gonna make a mistake, let me make it."
Clinton cast a meaningful look at Robyn
"Robyn is not a mistake. I love her and I'm not going to let her go." Chris pulled her close.
She buried her face in his chest, blinking back tears and hiding her smile from his father. Mike and Melissa didn't bother to hide theirs.
Clinton frowned. "So this is what you want—sports medicine, Raven–"
"Robyn!" four people shouted.
Clinton cleared his throat. "Robyn." He scanned her up and down, sizing her up. Then he sighed. "All right then, Robyn, Take care of my son."
"I will."
"Chris, take care of yourself. I'll be at your next game... if you want me to."
"I always want you at my games."
"That's good to know. I'm sorry I've missed some." Clinton extended his hand.
"I know." Chris shook his father's hand. "I'll see you next weekend."
"Good. Don't let Mike do all the work next time. I don't think he can take it."
Clinton dismissed them with a nod, and collected his phone and Carmen.
"I don't know about the rest of you," Mike said, "but that guy could drive me to drink."
Chris grunted. "Sounds good to me."
"Do you think he'll ever change?" asked Mel.
Mike shook his head and mouthed the word no.
"Probably not," Chris admitted, watching his father walk away. "But I did, so maybe he can too."
"I don't think you changed," said Mike. "I think you've been a good guy all along."
"No, don't say that." Chris faked a groan.
"You just needed the right person to help you figure that out."
"Hmm... I wonder who that could be." Chris squeezed Robyn.
She kissed him. "I have no idea. I certainly haven't figured you out."
"Good. I don't want you to get bored with me."
"Never."
"I love you. You heard that part, right?"
Robyn looked at him, her eyes shining like brilliant green emeralds. "I did. I love you too."
Chris picked her up and spun her around until they were both dizzy. They were still laughing when he kissed her, claiming her lips and her heart as his own. "Now this is better than sex."
"I'm not sure I believe that," Robyn teased him, seeking another kiss.
"Oh yeah? I love you, Robyn." Kiss. "Rihanna." Kiss. "Kiwi." Kiss. "Fenty." Chris felt that kiss all the way to his heart.
"Enough, already." Mel smacked Chris upside the head. "Let's get something to eat. I'm starving."
"Lead the way."
The four friends hopped into Mikes truck and drove to Rocky's. They ordered their usual and the waitress seemed uninterested in Chris seeing as though he had brought Robyn in twice.
Alot of the players came to Rocky's after the games win or lose. They'd come to celebrate or sit in each others misery.
Chris sat next to Robyn, nibbling on her neck more than he was nibbling on his burger.
"Chris, eat something other than me please!" She giggled as his tongue tickled her neck
He looked at her with those devious eyes. "You sure?"
She leaned over and whispered in his ear "at least wait til we get home.."
"I don't think I can wait."
"Seems like you don't feel to bad about the loss, so..."
"I'm feel very bad that's why I can't keep my hands off of you. I'm healing myself."
"Mhm, well.... We'll see about that."
She kissed him and then tried to change the subject.
"Your dad seems to be easing up."
"Nah, he's just dealing, the real test is gonna be my mama, but I'm sure you got that."
Robyn had really never met anyone's mom before. She was a little nervous with even the thought of it. Speaking of it, she had never thought of bringing a guy home to her mother. She needed to call her by the way.
"Yeah, but you'll have a harder time trying to win my mama over, oh and the rest of the family. Us Bajans are na-ting to play with. The accents get thick and our eyes get narrow and you won't know what to do-"
"So there's more of you out there?"
"Haaa, wayyyy more."
Mike nudged Chris on the shoulder. But Chris paid him no mind. He stepped on his toe desperately trying to get his attention.
"WHAT NIG-"
He looked up at a familiar looking girl standing over the table.
"Hey Chris..."
