Offside by Shay Savage

through the door.
    “You didn’t get up on time?” he spit out at me.
    “I was out the door at six,” I told him.
    “Give me that,” he said as he reached over and grabbed the pedometer. “You really want to show these averages to the scouts? You want Wayne Messini to see your first mile is almost six minutes? Seriously?”
    “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I guess I’m tired this morning.”
    “What are you thinking about?” he asked.
    “Nothing, really,” I said. I had to look away from him because lying to his face was too hard.
    “Schoolwork?”
    “No, really, Dad,” I said. “I’m just tired.”
    “Do extra on the bike,” he insisted. “I want your averages under five-thirty tomorrow.”
    “Okay.”
    “And lay off the pizza.”
    I nodded and went downstairs to the stationary bike, then did the weights, and then went out in the back yard for some juggling practice.

    I fiddled around with my bow tie until the damn thing was straight. There appeared to be a little spot of something on the jacket that didn’t come out when it was at the dry cleaners, but I hoped no one would notice. I checked myself in the mirror, evaluating my unruly, gelled hair—short sides, slightly longer on top, and basic brown. I’d gotten a haircut two days earlier, so I was looking more polished than usual. My hazel eyes shimmered in the light from the bulbs above the sink.
    Deciding I was as perfect as I was going to get, I walked out into the hall and heard Dad cursing in the master bathroom.
    “Need help?” I asked as I stuck my head around the corner. He was standing in front of the sink, leaning over and looking into the mirror with his bow tie wrapped around his wrist and fingers. His blond hair was perfectly groomed, quite in contrast to my own. He turned his blue eyes on me and glared.
    “Goddammit, yes!” he snapped. Then he sighed and pulled the bow tie off his neck altogether before handing it to me. I smoothed it out and started tying it around his neck. His voice softened. “I used to wear the damn clip-on ones.”
    “You did?”
    “Yeah, until…” He paused and took a deep breath. “Your mom said they were ‘undignified’. She kept trying to teach me, but I never could tie the damn things right.”
    I tried not to meet his eyes or even breathe. He didn’t talk about Mom. Not ever.
    “She said she’d help me…” His voice trailed off.
    “I can do it,” I said as I wrapped one end around the other and looped it through. He pointed his chin up at the ceiling.
    “Yeah, and where the fuck are you going to be next year?” His jaw clenched, and I saw his hands clench into fists. I tried to tie a little faster. “Who is going to tie it for the city banquet then, huh?”
    “If I played for the Sounders, I’d be—”
    “You aren’t playing for the fucking Sounders!” he screamed. I tried to step back, but it wasn’t enough. His hands pushed against my chest, knocking me backward into the bathroom counter. Pain shot up from the small of my back as it made contact with the edge of the counter, and I winced. “You are going to Europe to play football! Real Messini! Real football !”
    I started to move to the side to get out the door, but he shoved me back again. I tried to hold my muscles still, but I was starting to shake.
    “Maybe if I hadn’t been stuck with you, I wouldn’t have made it that big,” he snarled low, “but there’s no way I would have ever settled for what was convenient . You are not going to settle for anything other than the best, you hear me? You won’t settle for anything but being the best!”
    I didn’t answer. I had no idea if I should or not, but chances were if I answered him when he didn’t want me to, it would be worse than if I didn’t answer and he had to ask again.
    “Doesn’t fucking matter anyway,” he said as he stood up straight and started brushing non-existent lint off his jacket. “Like you would come back here even if you were close. You