Conversations in the Night
That night at dinner, Dan was all over himself to apologize. Apparently he'd been planning to come to practice. "We just got so busy at the Subaru store. Made the quota and then some, but I really wanted to be there for your first varsity practice."
Lucas snorted. "Dad, you know Whitey banned you from practice."
"That old man can't tell me what to do. Never could. If I want to watch my boy practice I will," Dan scoffed. "So, Nathan, tell me all about it."
"It was okay, I guess. He put me on point guard."
Dan jerked back. "He did not!"
Nathan looked up, puzzled. Dan seemed really angry. "What's wrong with point guard? It's a really hard position to play. You have to keep track of everyone."
"Yeah, so you can pass them the ball and they can make the points. You need at least 25 points a game to get noticed by the scouts, and you have to be a shooting guard to get the points. No way my son is giving up his points to another player."
"We already have a shooting guard, Dad," Lucas interjected. "Remember me? Also your son?"
"Well, if your game doesn't pick up soon, you'll lose your spot. Last game you only had 17 points, don't think I don't remember. If Nathan can play better two guard than you, then he deserves the spot more," Dan shot back. Nathan tried to curl himself further into his seat.
"Really Dan, I'm fine with point guard."
"Well, I'm not. I'm going down there tomorrow to talk to Whitey. Old fart's just gonna have to give you a better position. And another thing, what's with this Dan shit? It's been nearly two months. It is well past time you started calling me Dad."
Nathan nodded, miserable. He just knew no good could come of this. And he was right. That night, while he was reading before bed, Lucas came into his room. Nathan felt him rather than heard him and turned. He was standing right next to the door, the light from the lamp on the side table catching his blond hair and making it glow like a halo, but the look on his face was one of pure rage. Nathan almost recoiled before it, but was able to stop and collect himself in time. "Something you need?"
"You. Gone. You come in here and take my room, my father, my mother, my girl, my life. And now you want my position on the team? Well guess what. You can't have it. I'm going to make sure you run back to wherever it is you came from with nothing. It's all mine, and You. Get. Nothing." He hissed the last bit and Nathan felt the beginnings of real fear. He remembered Mrs. Plumber and tried to reach out.
"Lucas, I'm not trying to take anything from you. I don't want Peyton. I don't want to play two guard. I'm just trying to get by. It's not like I have anywhere else to go."
"Oh that's right. Poor little Nathan has no other family. Noone else to take him in. And why is that? Because his grandparents want nothing to do with him. Because he's a freakin' bastard."
This time Nathan did recoil. While he'd always known that his parents were never married, and he was therefore illegitimate, that just wasn't a big deal in Las Vegas, Sin City, where it seemed like every third kid in his classes had been in the same spot, and he was better than most even knowing his father's name. He had forgotten he was in the Bible Belt now, where things like this mattered. And Lucas, with his venom dripping from every syllable, was making it matter to him for the first time in his life.
"What's the matter? Truth hurt, little brother?"
"No... it's not that. I've just never really associated myself with that word."
"Well, get used to it. Because I am going to make sure that people forget your name before they forget that you are nothing more than bastard spawn. You'll be screaming for a group home by the time I'm done with you." Lucas slunk out, leaving Nathan alone and very, very scared.