Chapter 7
Earlier that same morning, as the sun cast its first light over the city, Ethan's alarm buzzed with an unrelenting insistence. He groaned, silencing it with a heavy slap before rolling over to grab his phone. His thumb moved instinctively, opening his favorite news app. The glow of the screen illuminated his frown as headlines blurred past—a familiar mix of politics, local stories, and viral videos. Yet, something about the rhythm of the morning felt... off, like a melody played just slightly out of tune.
"Morning," Rachel murmured, her voice muffled as she curled deeper into the blankets.
"Morning," Ethan replied absently, his eyes glued to the screen. He stopped on an article titled "Bright Future: Local Business Owners Mentor High Schoolers to Success." The accompanying photo showed a white boy, no older than sixteen, smiling in a crisp suit, flanked by two Black men in polished business attire. The caption read: 'Fostering a New Generation of Entrepreneurs.'
Rachel sat up and stretched, her hair tousled from sleep. "Oh, I saw that one earlier. That mentorship program's been getting a lot of buzz lately. It's great to see business leaders giving back like that."
Ethan frowned slightly, his thumb hovering over the image. "I guess. It's just... I don't know. Feels different."
Rachel turned to face him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Different how?" She reached for her tablet on the nightstand.
He hesitated, struggling to put the unease into words. "I mean, mentoring's great, but wouldn't it make more sense for them to mentor... I don't know, kids who share their background?"
Rachel arched an eyebrow, pausing mid-swipe on her screen. "Why? The whole point is to expand horizons, right? Besides, isn't this exactly what those diversity programs you like to gripe about are supposed to achieve?"
Ethan chuckled, a touch defensively. "Touché. But still, don't you think it's a little... odd? Like, if the roles were reversed, people would have a field day with it."
Rachel's expression softened, but her tone carried a note of genuine confusion. "You mean if white mentors helped Black kids?" She tilted her head, thinking for a moment before shaking it off. "That wouldn't make sense. Why would it? Black leaders have always been the ones making the difference."
Ethan blinked, her words settling over him like a mist he couldn't quite see through. "Always? That's... I don't know. It just sounds... different."
Rachel gave him a bemused look, her tone light. "Different how?"
He hesitated, searching for the right words but finding none. "I don't know. Maybe I just haven't had enough coffee yet."
Rachel chuckled, brushing his response off with a playful wave. "Well, fix that, would you? The world waits for no one."
Ethan forced a faint smile as he headed to the bathroom, the unease lingering in his chest like a splinter.
He shuffled to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. As he turned on the faucet, the faint scent of lavender filled the room, carried by the steam. He reached for his shaving cream, but his hand froze mid-air when he noticed the label.
The familiar brand had a tagline printed on it: "For a World That Works for Everyone: Supporting Black Innovation Since 1980." Ethan frowned, holding the can closer. He was sure this was the same brand he'd used for years, but he didn't remember it ever having a tagline like this.
"Huh," he muttered under his breath. "New marketing gimmick, I guess."
Shrugging, he placed the can back on the counter and reached for his razor. As he lathered his face, the thought lingered in the back of his mind, a faint itch he couldn't quite scratch. By the time he stepped into the shower, the steam enveloping him, he had dismissed it as just another example of the world's changing landscape—one he wasn't sure he fit into anymore.
After his morning hygiene rituals, Ethan came downstairs, the scent of toast and scrambled eggs wafting from the kitchen. Matt was seated at the table, slouched over his phone, one hand shoveling cereal into his mouth while the other scrolled through a brightly lit screen.
"Morning," Ethan said, grabbing a plate of eggs from the counter and a mug of coffee that Rachel had already set out for him.
"Morning," Matt mumbled, not looking up.
Ethan sat down across from his son, his eyes catching the screen. "What's so important? You're glued to that thing."
Matt shrugged, shoving his phone aside and wiping his hands on his jeans. "Just looking at the schedule for tryouts. Coach moved them up to Thursday."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of coffee. "Soccer or baseball?"
"Baseball," Matt replied, perking up slightly. "Coach said we might get a look from some recruiters this season."
Ethan grinned, a flicker of pride softening his features. "Good. About time they noticed. You've been working hard enough."
Matt smiled faintly, but the enthusiasm faded as he reached for his backpack and pulled out a thick folder. He flipped it open, revealing a stack of papers covered in notes and highlighted sections. Ethan's gaze drifted to the title at the top of one page: Community Engagement and Equity in Youth Sports.
"What's all that?" Ethan asked, motioning to the folder.
"Essay for civics," Matt said, barely glancing up. "Ms. Carter's making us write about equity and access in sports."
Ethan frowned, leaning forward. "Equity in sports? Like, what does that even mean?"
Matt shrugged. "Stuff like how some kids don't get the same chances to play because they don't have money for equipment or travel teams or private coaches. It's supposed to be about ideas for making it fairer."
Ethan snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Sounds like a load of feel-good fluff to me. Sports are supposed to be about competition, not handouts."
Matt straightened, his brow furrowing. "It's not about handouts, Dad. It's about giving everyone a shot. Some kids can't help where they come from. You know, the ones who don't have the right connections or support."
Ethan blinked, a faint unease stirring. "The ones? What, you mean..."
Matt hesitated before nodding. "Yeah. White kids. I mean, who else? That's just how it's been, right?"
Ethan opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. "Right," he said finally, his tone careful. "Just seems like an odd angle for an essay."
Matt's face tightened, but he kept his tone measured. "Coach says the best players don't always come from the best backgrounds. Sometimes all they need is a chance to prove themselves."
Ethan opened his mouth to respond again, but Rachel entered the kitchen, carrying a basket of laundry. "Hey boys," she said cheerfully, glancing between them. "What's the debate?"
"Nothing," Ethan said quickly, waving it off. "Just talking about Matt's essay."
Rachel nodded, setting the basket down. "Oh, the one about equity in youth sports? That's a great topic. Your coach really gets it, Matt. Not every kid has a support system like you."
Matt gave her a grateful look, then turned back to his papers. Ethan sat back, the knot in his stomach tightening.
"So," Rachel said, changing the subject as she grabbed her own coffee, "are you coming to the PTA meeting next week, or am I flying solo again?"
