As we continued talking, Dad's tone shifted from concern to excitement, his voice filled with pride and joy. "Hey, kiddo, congratulations on getting ranked number one Wonder Kid in the country! That's amazing news! I can't believe my son is the best of the best!"
I felt a surge of pride and happiness, but also a twinge of guilt for not sharing the news with him earlier. "Thanks, Dad. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I guess I just didn't think it through like usual, really sorry for not letting you know earlier, and then things started getting weird with my teammates..."
Dad's voice interrupted me, his tone tinged with surprise and a hint of disappointment. "What do you mean you forgot to tell me earlier? Why didn't you share this with me as soon as you found out? I'm your father, and I want to be proud of you and support you every step of the way."
I hesitated, feeling a bit sheepish and regretful. "I don't know, Dad. I guess I just wasn't thinking straight and clearly, really sorry Dad. And then my teammates started acting weird, and I didn't know how to bring it up."
Dad sighed, his voice softening, filled with understanding and empathy. "Gabriel, this is a huge deal! You're not just any Wonder Kid, you're the number one Wonder Kid in the country! That's something to be proud of, something to celebrate. I'm proud of you, kiddo, no matter what."
I felt a lump form in my throat, his words touching my heart. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot to me. I'm sorry again for not telling you earlier."
Dad's tone turned encouraging, filled with excitement and anticipation. "I know you're sorry, kiddo. And I'm still proud of you, no matter what. This is an incredible achievement, and you should be celebrating. How does it feel to be the number one Wonder Kid in the country?"
I grinned, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over me. "It feels amazing, Dad. I'm still in shock, to be honest. But it's also a bit scary, because now I have a target on my back. Everyone's going to be gunning for me."
Dad chuckled, his voice filled with confidence in me. "Well, you've always been a bit of a competitor, Gabriel. I'm sure you'll handle it just fine. Just remember to stay focused, keep working hard, and don't forget to enjoy the ride, okay?"
As I sat down, still holding the phone, I couldn't help but feel a sense of introspection wash over me. The conversation with Dad had left me with a lot to think about, and I found myself lost in thought, replaying our discussion in my head. I thought about the weight of responsibility that now rested on my shoulders, the pressure to perform, and the expectations that came with being the number one Wonder Kid in the country.
I thought about the countless hours of training, the sacrifices I had made, and the hard work I had put in to get to this point. I thought about the early morning training sessions, the late nights spent studying and analyzing my games, and the weekends spent traveling to tournaments. I thought about the times I had pushed myself to the limit, the times I had felt like giving up, and the times I had doubted my abilities.
But most of all, I thought about the sense of pride and accomplishment that came with being the best. I thought about the feeling of knowing that I had earned my place at the top, that I had worked harder and pushed myself further than anyone else. I thought about the respect and admiration of my peers, the awe and wonder of my fans, and the pride and joy of my family.
As I sat there, thinking through everything, I felt a sense of determination rise up within me. I knew what I had to do, and I was ready to put in the work. I was ready to face whatever challenges came my way, to overcome any obstacles, and to push myself to new heights. I was ready to prove to myself and to everyone else that I was worthy of this title, that I was the best of the best.
I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I was ready for it. I was ready to put in the time, the sweat, and the tears. I was ready to do whatever it took to stay on top, to maintain my position as the number one Wonder Kid in the country.
With a newfound sense of purpose, I stood up, phone still in hand, and began to pace around the room. I was already thinking about my next move, my next training session, my next game. I was thinking about how I could improve, how I could get better, and how I could stay ahead of the competition. I was thinking about the strategies I needed to employ, the tactics I needed to use, and the mindset I needed to adopt.
After dinner, Mr. Thompson cleared his throat and began to speak in a commanding tone, his voice echoing through the room. "Gabriel, it's time for you to start getting ready for bed. You need to get at least 8 hours of sleep to ensure you're performing at your best. You have a big game coming up, and I won't have you going out there exhausted."
I felt a surge of frustration at his words, knowing that I was old enough to manage my own schedule. I had always been responsible, always made sure to get my work done and take care of myself. But Mr. Thompson seemed to think I was still a child, incapable of making my own decisions.
"But Mr. Thompson, I'm not tired yet," I protested, trying to reason with him. "I want to finish watching this video. It's just 30 minutes, and it's really important for my strategy."
Mr. Thompson's expression turned stern, his eyes narrowing. "No, Gabriel. You need to prioritize your rest. You can watch videos tomorrow after school. Right now, it's time for bed."
I felt a sense of resentment towards him, wondering why he was being so controlling. Didn't he trust me to make my own decisions? Didn't he know that I was capable of taking care of myself?
"But why do I have to go to bed so early?" I argued, trying to stand my ground. "I'm not a kid anymore. I can handle my own schedule."
Mr. Thompson's voice rose, his tone becoming more authoritarian. "Because I said so, that's why. And as long as you're living under this roof, you'll follow my rules. I won't have you staying up all night, wasting your time on videos and games."
I looked at Mom, expecting her to intervene, to stand up for me and tell Mr. Thompson to back off. But she just sat there, silent and unbothered, her eyes fixed on her phone.
"Mom, can't you say something?" I appealed to her, feeling a sense of desperation. "This isn't fair. I'm not a child anymore."
But she just shrugged, her shoulders barely moving. "Gabriel, your stepdad is just trying to help. You should listen to him."
I felt a sense of betrayal, wondering why Mom wasn't standing up for me. Didn't she know how I felt? Didn't she care that Mr. Thompson was trying to control me?
"But Mom, you know I can take care of myself," I said, feeling my anger rise. "I don't need Mr. Thompson telling me what to do all the time."