A New Life in Modern Family

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Chapter 2: A Natural Fit

Living with the Pritchetts turned out to be surprisingly easy.

I had expected a bit of resistance—after all, I was an outsider suddenly dropped into their home. But within days, it was clear: they liked having me around.

Jay, the tough, old-school guy that he was, warmed up to me quicker than I expected. He respected discipline, and I had plenty of it. The first morning I stayed over, I woke up early, made a full breakfast—eggs, bacon, fresh juice, the works—then went for my morning run. By the time I got back, the smell had already won them over.

"You made this?" Jay asked, eyeing the perfectly cooked bacon like it was a gift from heaven.

I nodded, grabbing a plate. "Yeah. I like cooking."

Jay grunted in approval as he took a bite. He didn't say much, but the way he devoured his food said everything. From that day on, breakfast became my job.

Manny took to me immediately. The kid was… unique. A poetry-loving, suit-wearing, sensitive soul trapped in a world that didn't quite get him. But I did. I treated him with respect, never mocked his quirks, and even indulged his long-winded philosophical musings. That alone made me his favorite person in the house.

"Jon," Manny said one evening, looking up from his book. "I must say, your presence in this household has been a delightful addition to our lives."

I smirked. "Manny, that's the most poetic way anyone's ever told me I'm not annoying."

Gloria loved me for how I treated her son. That, and the fact that I spoke perfect Spanish. The first time she heard me, she nearly dropped her glass.

"¿Jon, hablas español?" she asked, stunned.

"Sí," I said with a casual shrug. "Aprendí hace mucho tiempo."

She gasped and clutched her chest like I had just announced I was her long-lost son. "¡Ay, Dios mío! ¡Finalmente alguien en esta casa que habla bien el español!"

From then on, she doted on me like I was her own.

Jay and I got along better than I had expected. He liked that I wasn't lazy, that I was disciplined, and that I had interests beyond video games and social media. He started treating me like the son he always wanted but never quite had.

One afternoon, we were sitting in the backyard, enjoying the warm California sun, when he asked, "So, what sports do you play?"

I shrugged. "Mostly martial arts. I've done competitions, won some stuff, but nothing too crazy."

Jay frowned like I had personally offended him. "Martial arts is good and all, but have you ever played real sports? Like football?"

I shook my head. "Never tried it."

That answer visibly pained him. "Kid, we need to fix that."

Jay stood up and walked into the garage. A few moments later, he returned with a slightly worn but well-maintained football. He tossed it to me, and I caught it with ease.

"Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles. "First lesson—this isn't soccer. You don't kick it around like some guy named Javier in Madrid. Football is a game of strategy, power, and precision."

I nodded, amused by how seriously he was taking this. "Got it."

Jay pointed to the laces on the football. "When you throw, grip the laces. Gives you control and a tight spiral. Step forward with your opposite foot and follow through with your arm. Here—watch."

He took the ball and demonstrated, sending a perfect spiral across the yard. I caught it effortlessly.

"Now you try," he said.

I positioned my fingers over the laces, took a step forward, and threw. The ball cut through the air with a sharp spiral, landing perfectly in Jay's hands.

He blinked. "Huh. That was… pretty good."

I shrugged. "Beginner's luck?"

Jay narrowed his eyes. "Let's see about that. Try again."

We spent the next hour going over the basics—throwing, catching, different types of passes. Then, Jay introduced me to routes. He jogged a few steps, cut to the right, and called for the ball. I adjusted mid-throw and hit him right in the chest.

Jay looked down at the ball, then back at me. "You sure you've never played before?"

I smirked. "Pretty sure."

He grunted. "Alright, let's kick it up a notch."

We moved on to defense. Jay had me try to block him as he ran routes, and while he had experience, I had speed and instincts. Every time he tried to fake me out, I adjusted. When he finally did manage to shake me, he let out a triumphant, "Ha!" like he had just outsmarted Belichick.

Then it was my turn to run routes. That's when Jay's expression really changed.

No matter what he did, I was open. My reflexes let me adjust mid-stride, my balance kept me from stumbling, and my speed gave me an edge. By the time we wrapped up, Jay looked at me like he had just discovered a secret weapon.

"Kid," he said, hands on his hips, "you ever think about joining a team?"

I wiped some sweat off my brow. "Never really thought about it."

Jay's face lit up like he had just won the lottery. "Well, start thinking. Because I just found our new star player."

I considered it. Martial arts had started to feel repetitive, but football? That was something new. A challenge.

I grinned. "Why not?"

Jay clapped a hand on my shoulder, looking proud. "Kid, you're gonna be a star."