Page 12 of Seeds of Friendship (University of Mountain Springs)

I stare at the screen, thumb hovering over the green button.

If I answer, I'll hear that wheeze underneath his forced cheer.

That wet cough he'll try to muffle. The lie in his voice when he says he's fine.

If I don't answer, I'm the piece of shit son who's too busy partying to talk to his sick father.

The phone stops ringing. Then immediately starts again.

Fuck.

I let it go to voicemail again, then immediately feel like shit. Another cough-filled conversation I'm avoiding. Another reminder of everything I need to fix but can't.

A text pops up from Mom: Dad just wanted you to wish Megan luck at tryouts today. Call when you can.

Shit. Megan's tryouts. Top team at her school. I quickly text her:

Hey, superstar. Today's the day! You're gonna kill it. Those other girls don't stand a chance.

She responds immediately: I'm so nervous I might puke

Remember what I taught you? Deep breath, visualize the play, trust your instincts. You've got better footwork than half the college players here.

What if I choke?

Then you get up and try again. But you won't choke. You're a Donovan. We're too stubborn to choke.

Love you Freddie

Love you too kid. Let me know how it goes.

Will you call Dad? He keeps asking if you're okay.

My chest tightens. Even Megan's trying to take care of everyone, bridge the gap, fix things. She's fifteen and already carrying weight that isn't hers.

Yeah, I'll call him later.

Promise?

Promise.

I set the phone down, staring at the ceiling. Megan needs those new cleats. She needs gear, camp fees, the things that help talented kids become successful athletes. Things we can't afford while Dad's medical bills eat everything.

The truth is, I know exactly what this feeling is. It's watching Troy find someone who makes him want to be better. It's seeing even Alfie—fucking Alfie—letting someone in. It's me, standing still, wrapped in armor I've worn so long it's become my skin.

I pull out my laptop, start researching internships. Business internships. Marketing, finance, consulting. The safe path. The fast path to decent money.

But then I remember Alfie's words. Six figures starting salary. Geological consultants for mining companies.

I could switch majors. Go into environmental science or geology.

Use what I'm actually good at—chemistry, earth sciences, the subjects that actually make sense to me instead of forcing myself through business classes that make me want to claw my eyes out.

Make the kind of money that could pay for Dad's real treatments, not just pain management.

Get Mom off double shifts. Give Megan everything she needs to succeed.

All it would cost is my soul. Working for the same type of companies that destroyed Dad's lungs in the first place.

EcoTech. The name Alfie mentioned. I Google them. Their website shows smiling workers, green initiatives, “responsible extraction.” But I know better. I've seen what “responsible extraction” looks like—wheezing at fifty, coughing up blood at fifty-five, dead by sixty if you're lucky.

Can I do it? Put on a suit, sit in meetings, help them figure out more efficient ways to destroy mountains, and lungs, and lives? Come home for holidays and look Dad in the eye, knowing I'm working for the same people who’ve allowed him to get this sick?

I close the laptop, disgusted with myself.

This is who I am—the guy who'd even consider selling out for a paycheck. The guy who pushes away anyone who might make him want to choose differently. The guy who tells himself it's practical when really, it's just fear.

But Megan needs those cleats. Dad needs real treatment. Mom needs rest.

And I need to stop thinking I can have both—the moral high ground and the money to save them.

Business major, it is. It's faster, cleaner, doesn't require looking at rock formations and thinking about whose lungs they'll destroy. I can still make decent money without directly joining the enemy.

It's not selling out. Not yet. We’re not that desperate. Business might be slower, but it’ll get me there. I’ll save them all. Somehow.

It's the only choice that lets me sleep at night.

I pick up my phone, stare at Dad's missed calls.

Tomorrow. I’ll call him tomorrow—when I can fake it better. When I can pretend I'm the son he needs me to be—successful, stable, ready to fix everything.

Not the son I actually am—hollow from pushing everyone away, terrified of becoming him, desperate for something I can't even name.

Tomorrow, I’ll pick up. Tomorrow, I’ll play the part.

Today, I sit in this hollow I built for myself. Tell myself it’s safer this way. No risks. No one close enough to hurt me.

Except… Troy, who’s impossible not to like. Alfie, who stares the world down without blinking. Ethan, who already feels like family, whether I want him to or not.

And maybe one day—when I’m not terrified of wanting more—I’ll stop lying to myself.

Maybe I’ll let someone in. Someone who’ll make me fight for more than survival.

And my story—the one with the girl I’m not ready for—yeah, it’s just getting started.

…

Ready to see Freddie's walls come crashing down?

You've watched him push everyone away.

But what happens when he meets someone who refuses to be pushed away?

Enter Alex Ford: Environmental scientist. The woman who calls bullshit on everything Freddie thinks he knows.

She's trying to save the planet. He's trying to save his family. She thinks business majors are corporate sellouts. He thinks environmentalists are naive idealists.

She's everything he never wanted to want.

And she's about to turn his carefully controlled world upside down.