A Hidden Picture

Forty seven

~ Reed

"Are you still getting into NYU or did your weak ass get hurt too much from getting your ass beat by those cunts?"

I clench my jaw as I look up from the laptop as I lay on the couch. "Yes, I'm still going."

He scoffs and leans back in his recliner. "I doubt you'll make it to where Kayden is."

I stare at him through my glasses. Surprised at the fact that his words don't affect me like how they did as a kid.

I've been avoiding him recently, and I've been studying the same way I always have yet my grade in math has greatly improved.

I realized that I don't think I was ever the problem. That I was too stupid, or that I couldn't do it.

When you're told your whole life that you can't do something and you're constantly being pushed down you're gonna end up believing it.

My mind goes to Annalise.

"I'm so proud of you."

"You did that all on your own."

I don't think she knows how she helped me...believe in myself again.

All care for whatever he has to say goes out the widow as I stare at my dad.

"I don't want to go to the NFL."

The minute the words leave my mouth I automatically regret it, but weirdly at the same time I don't.

He slowly turns his head to me. Bewilderment quickly taking over his expression. "The fuck you mean?"

"I'm playing college football. That's it."

He stares at me for a few moments before laughing and looking back to the TV. "Funny."

"I'm serious."

He looks back at me ad his grin falls whe he sees the seriousness in my expression.

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Football is not something I want to do for the rest of my life. The NFL has never been my dream. But you've never cared enough to know that."

He stares at me as if he can't believe what he's hearing.

His eyebrows pull together. "Are you saying this cause of your stupid little girlfriend? Did that bitch put this shit in your head-"

"Don't you ever," I seethe. "And I mean ever, talk about her like that."

He purses his lips but does't say anything, just huffing out a breath.

I used to think his words meant so much. God was I wrong.

So so wrong.

Over the years I've learned that the only peoples words that matter are the people that love you back.

And maybe my dad does love me in his own fucked up way, but that's not the kind of love I want. The kind of love that I learned existed.

I stand up off the couch, walking closer to him.  "I'm leaving right when this school year is over for me. I've learned that what you say is just bullshit, but that little girl upstairs hasn't. She is going to continue growing up with a mom who is too busy working to pay the bills and a dad who wishes he never had us." He doesn't look up to meet my eyes. Instead he just ignores me and continues watching the game.

My chest rises and falls as my breathing increases. Don't punch him don't punch him.

I shake my head. "Fuck you."