“Dad?” “What is it, son?” “I, uh…” I try to tamp down my nerves, force myself to take a steadying breath. “A scout came to the game on Friday, from the Golden Bears. And they want me.” His eyes grow comically wide. “California Golden Bears? You want to go to Berkeley?” “I-I think so.” His mouth opens and closes, then opens again. “I didn’t— I didn’t know that you— That’s fantastic, Asher.” “Really?” “Yes, really. I meant what I said before. I want to be the dad you deserve, and if Berkeley’s your dream, then I will support you every step of the way.” It is my dream, but only if Oakley’s there
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