Chapter 2

Dad had gotten his hands on a sheet of printer paper from somewhere, covered it edge to edge in neat marker, and stuck it to the back of the dorm room door where nobody could miss it. The title across the top read Tyler's University Daily Schedule.

It had me up at 6:00 am to memorize vocabulary and in bed by 11:00 pm sharp, with weekends spent entirely at the library and even mealtimes planned down to the minute.

It wasn't university. It was a military prep school.

At 8:30 pm, Leo was lying in bed with his headphones on, watching a game. He let out a quiet laugh.

Dad sat up on his cot immediately and knocked hard on the side of Leo's bed frame. He kept his voice low, though it did nothing to hide the disgust.

"Do you mind? Can't you see Tyler is reviewing his calculus? You think it's funny to break his concentration on purpose?"

"Sir, I'm wearing headphones, and it's only 8:30 pm," Leo protested.

"So what if it's 8:30? People who only think about having fun end up at the bottom for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare drag Tyler down to your level." Dad's voice was sharp as nails on a chalkboard.

I sat at my desk, fingers white-knuckled around my pen, nails digging into my palm.

"Dad, stop. He wasn't even being loud." I turned to look at him, pleading.

His expression changed instantly. He came over, patted my shoulder like I was made of glass, and his voice went syrupy soft.

"Ty, sweetheart, you're just too kind. That's why people take advantage of you. But I'm here now, and nobody's going to get in your way. Go on, get back to your books."

Under his warm, watchful gaze, I bit my lip hard and swallowed everything I wanted to say. I already knew my university life had died on day one.

For an entire month, Room 402 felt like a freezer. Whenever Dad was around, nobody dared breathe too loud.

My roommates couldn't make phone calls in the room, and couldn't eat anything with a strong smell. They couldn't even talk about joining clubs without Dad shooting them a look like they were trash.

It wasn't like I never fought back. One time, he tried to confiscate my phone, claiming I didn't need a social life in university.

I finally snapped. "How long are you going to keep controlling me? I'm an adult! Can you just let me breathe?"

I expected him to get angry. I expected him to yell right back.

He didn't. He just froze for a second, and then his eyes went red. He walked slowly to his cot and sat down, let out a long sigh, and buried his face in his hands.

"Ty, are you really that ashamed of me?" He looked up, and his eyes were full of something fragile and wounded.

"I gave up my career for you. Your mother is deployed and barely comes home. You're all I have in this world.

"I sleep on this hard cot every single night. My back hurts so bad I can barely get through the night, but I've never once complained. And now you're screaming at me over a phone?"

Looking at the gray creeping into his temples and the redness in his eyes, a suffocating guilt closed around my throat. I knew I'd never asked for any of this. I knew that.

But he'd sacrificed so much, and the mix of revulsion and pain made it impossible to hold my ground. I gave in.

"Dad... That's not what I meant."

He pulled me into a tight hug and patted my back gently, the same way he used to when he'd put me to sleep as a kid. "I know. You've always been my good boy, Ty.

"The world out there is a mess, and I'm just trying to keep you from making mistakes. Once you get into a top grad program, I'll back off completely. Okay?"

I caved again. I didn't want to, but I didn't know what else to do. He always made it look so easy, brushing aside every bit of resistance I put up like it was nothing.