Chapter 3: Emmett
Emmett's POV:
"You had better win at the game on Friday." My dad said as I sat at the kitchen table.
"Dad, its Monday. I don't have anything to worry about yet."
"I don't care! No son of mine is going to be a failure!" he snapped as he poured his coffee. "I have to go, but you better be practicing." He said as he exited the kitchen.
"I've got it covered." I said, and heard the thump of the front door close as he left. I sighed as I reached into my pockets, and took out the pill bottle. "I've got it covered." I muttered again, and opened the bottle and took some of the pills.
I was the quarterback at my High School. And steroids had gotten me there.
My father was the kind of man who had everything he could ever want. He had money, cars, an amazing job, any new piece of technology he could ever ask for—yet he had nothing, except for me. My mom had left us after I was born, since they were really never married. The only thing he has is me, and he depends on me to make him happy. He counted on his 'son to make him proud.'
But as much as I could say for him, I could also say it for myself.
I needed to win. Not only did I want, I needed it, like oxygen. It was the only thing that made me feel important, like I mattered in this world. It was the only thing I could do right.
I sighed as I jumped off the bar stool and headed out of the house, jumping into my Jeep and heading towards the school. Forks High School.