Owen

Determination

My dad was home by the time I got home from school. I had asked Nan and Pop what was wrong, my dad was never home before five and those days were rare. Really only when no one else was around to stay with me. Otherwise he'd show up around ten give or take, mostly take.

Nan just ushered me in the door, planting a kiss on my cheek and then my dads before rattling off the food she had cook and stocked in the fridge. Pops hadn't even left the car, waiting in it instead for Nan. And then they left.

"Food right?" My dad asked from where he was seated at the dining room table. "I don't know Nan's schedule."

Nan's schedule. It made me sound like an invalid. As if I couldn't decide when I wanted to eat or not.

"I'm not hungry." I supplied.

Nan almost always made me a snack that I didn't want and then stared at me while I forced it down. She'd been even more aggressive about it the past few weeks or however long it'd been since the doctors called me out on my weight drop.

My dad had stood, already rummaging through the fridge as he looked back at me. "I swear she said she..."

"Dad, I'm not fucking hungry." I snapped.

He let go of the fridge, hands up in surrender. God I was a miserable prick. Alec had let me know a handful of times today that I was being an asshole. I hadn't managed to reel it in at all instead I just mumbled apologies throughout the day hoping it would suffice. It wasn't intentional.

Well most of it wasn't.

I had accidentally ran into Drew's desk during fourth hour while I was trying to navigate my way through. I started apologizing out of reflex before I realized it was him. When I stopped mid sentence and he said "no big deal" I told him that I hoped he'd fucking die. I didn't. Not entirely. Part of me a little. But mostly not. I was just pissed and hurt still.

"Sorry." I muttered. "I'll just eat at dinner."

Compromise. Maybe.

"Yeah, okay. That's fine buddy."

He went back to table where his laptop was open and I assumed that was it for the night. It wasn't like my dad and I had deep, thoughtful conversations when he was home. I started out of the kitchen, wheeling myself around on the back two wheels of my chair. I was already bored and I hadn't been home for five minutes yet.

"Hey, hang on there bud." My dad called. "I've been doing some research."

"On what?" I spun myself around again but didn't move any closer.

Hopefully on how to fix his depressed and broken kid.

That's what I'd be researching if it was me.

"On chairs." He stated as if this was a continuation of a previous conversation. "We're looking at a couple thousand and I definitely think we need to consult with someone who knows what they're looking at. I stopped by and talked to Will, the owner. I'm thinking about seeing if he can help us out."

I just stared at him dumbfounded. After Mina had dropped me off that night, I'd told him everything. Excitement spewing out of me, my heart slamming in my chest, the first bit of any real fight I used to have igniting within me. For the first time since I woke up in the hospital, immobile, I felt like like maybe it'd be alright if I never walked again. That maybe I could be happy, just like this.

But all he said was a flat "we'll see" when I all but begged him to let me get involved. And to avoid any more disappointment in my life than I'd already endured I just pushed it to the back of my mind. It was too good to be true anyway.

"What do you think?" He asked when I didn't say anything.

I shook my head, my brain trying to catch up with everything he said. "You mean you're cool with it?"

"Of course I am." His eyebrows pinched together on confusion.

He was confused. I was fucking lost but I in no way was going to question it.

"Yeah, lets do it!" A smile spread across my face. "Fuck yes!"

                              ————————

"I have a new goal." I told Sarah halfway through therapy.

"Well look at you." She teased. "You're suddenly just full of goals."

I laughed through my nose, not starting on the leg press like I knew she wanted me to do.

"So that gym I told you about..." I started.

"What about it?"

I took a deep breath, I was still trying not to get my hopes up.

"Well..." I said, drawing out the word. "My dad is all for me playing a sport. Basically I played soccer because I loved it but I trained my ass off so I could be awesome at it. I don't go halfway. And whatever I end up playing I want to be the best at and I know that starts here with you." I told her. "I know I'm kind of a shit but I'll stop my bitching if you'll help me."

She laughed, not that overly cheesy and happy laugh I hated but like a real laugh. One that sort of made her snort a little and her eyes to close.

"You are a bit of a shit but I've grown to like you anyway."

I snorted, a small fit of laughter following. I wasn't entirely sure she was allowed to cuss at me but it made me like her more.

"Damn don't hold back."

"So back into sports huh?" She asked, her pointer finger motioning up and down as it pointed at me, one of her signals to stop stalling and start working.

So I did, just to prove that I was done with procrastinating all together and was serious. If sports were in the picture I was going to push myself. I was going to give it everything I had. I had to. There was no other way.

"Yeah, I'm actually leaning toward basketball." I told her.

I hadn't played basketball on a team since middle school. Once I hit high school my focus has completely switched to soccer and track. But I liked it and the basketball I saw at Crip was wicked. And I could definitely be all about that.

I pushed, every fiber of my being trying to will the muscles in my legs to respond. My left quad flexed taught, the only thing I could really feel.

"Push." Sarah told me.

I ground my teeth together, sweat forming on my brow but I kept at it, rep after rep. I had a new found determination. And nothing was going to stop me.

                                  ————————

Maybe Owen's finally going to get his crap together, what do you think?