by Anne Leigh
I’d been expecting his call; I just didn’t expect it at four thirty in the morning.
Obviously he didn’t care about the time difference between Tokyo and Los Angeles.
I looked at the digital clock by my bedside and muttered, “Bishop, I’m still sleeping.” I’d only fallen asleep two hours ago because I was cramming for a dissertation that I wanted my advisor to at least glimpse at before I proceeded with the study.
“You were with him? He was a prick, Bridge. What the hell?” Obviously my brother didn’t care for interrupting my REM.
“It’s in the past.” I sat up and placed two pillows on top of each other so I could lean on them while dealing with my brother’s anger. “How did you find out?”
Dex wasn’t a nice guy. Bishop barely tolerated his presence when we ate at the bakery/restaurant that his mother owned.
“Oh, I don’t know, I was hanging out with my teammates when one of them asked if you were my sister.” His voice was filled with sarcasm, but the hurt that it carried was out there in the open.
I didn’t even have to ask why his teammate would be asking about me, Bishop just trudged on, “There’s a YouTube video with millions of views, starring the quarterbacks of the Royals and my sister is in the middle of it.”
The video’s been making the news for two days straight now, and I knew I should’ve alerted my brother, but he was overseas and I figured it would die down before he made it back.
“I’m sorry, Bishop, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” There was nothing but remorse inside of me. “We were young and I thought he was good and I just – I just made a mistake trusting him. I know that now.”
“He was always hanging on to me, Bridge. He’s nothing but a sucker for fame. He was always asking me what I did to get all the girls and he was just annoying.”
“You hung out with him…” I remembered all the times Bishop and Dex would be hanging out after games at St. Ignatius. Even if Bishop played hockey, Dex and the rest of their schoolmates always watched the games, and I wasn’t present at a lot of my brother’s games because I had school and after school I had my medical appointments with Dr. Fortez.
“I barely tolerated the shithead. He was always talking about himself. Anyways, what’s going on, Bridge?” He might be upset, but his main concern would always be my welfare.
“Dex wants a second chance with me.” Even in my bleary-eyed state, I couldn’t help but snort. “He was singing at the karaoke bar, and he was telling everyone that it was for me, when he knew exactly who I was there for.”
“Jesus, what an idiot,” my brother said and I agreed with him.
“After all these years, he’s never said anything to me, and now all of a sudden he wants to get back together. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Bishop. He wasn’t your problem, he was mine. He was nice to me in the beginning, but I knew that he only wanted to be with me because of you.” I remembered that night like it was yesterday. My dad had passed away, Bishop was moving to San Diego for college, and I was crying because Dex was breaking up with me. He looked me in the eyes and said that he wasn’t happy anymore, we were done, and it was time for him to explore other relationships.
As a sixteen year-old, I was bombarded with so many stressors and I felt like my world was caving in. Without the help of Dr. Fortez, and the constant reassurance from Bishop that everything was going to be okay, I didn’t know if I would have retreated back to my old self.
The me that didn’t talk for a year or half a decade. Some people dealt with stress by eating ice cream and bingeing on chips.
Me?
I turned inward to myself. Dr. Fortez said that it was my coping mechanism on how I dealt with traumatic events by losing my voice.
I’d gotten better at recognizing myself when I became overwhelmed, and I’d further established painting as a healthier way of coping. Sometimes I distracted myself by learning another language and per Dr. Fortez, it was fine. As long as I didn’t shut myself off from the people I loved, then I would have a safety net.
“I’m sorry, Bridge. I’m sorry that I can’t be there for you right now.” My brother, my protector. “I wish you would have asked me about him. I wish I could have told you that he didn’t deserve you.”
“I’m okay, Bishop.”I hoped that my voice carried enough reassurance so he wouldn’t worry about me. “I’m allowed to make my own mistakes. I trusted him, but I was wrong. I can’t help the video from circulating, but at least Mom is helping me mitigate the damage.”
“Mom?” His voice notched up ten decibels. “You’re letting her help you?”
“Yeah. She reached out to me.” I hugged my small, light yellow fluffy pillow, a gift that Scott had sent to keep me company when he was on the road. “We’ve been talking and she’s been great. You know she has friends in the media, and Scott’s going to do an interview to help clear things up.”
“Wow.” He couldn’t hide the awe in his voice. Bishop had been asking me to bridge the gap with our mother. He didn’t force me, but he knew that our childhood was difficult because she never really defended us to our father. She was too busy in her own little world that my brother and I were just casualties of bad parenting.
I wish I could hug my brother right now, but I wanted him to know that I was handling things. “I love Scott. I’d had a rough few days, but he’s had it worse. Everyone at the Royals is trying to get to the bottom of things and trying to keep it from the press, but it’s gotten blown way out of proportion. The media’s not talking about the upcoming game this week, they’re just putting their own spin onto things and Scott’s trying to shift the attention away from me, but I’m not afraid anymore, Bishop. Scott’s head should be on the games, and not the little drama that Dex is creating around him.”
“Wow.” He said for the second time, “I never thought I’d see the day, Bridge.”
“What day?” Now that my mind was operating again, sleep became an afterthought. After the video came out, the media and social media swarmed Scott. News stories of how he was becoming a prima donna began to surface. Tabloids talked about how Scott took me from Dex, and now Dex was the poor guy who got shafted. I thought the media was already crazy, and now that I was in the thick of it, I thought they were a bunch of lunatics.
My phone had been ringing nonstop. It was a fluke that I even answered Bishop’s call, thank goodness for unique ringtones.
Everyone wanted to get a statement from me, but as soon as I got ahold of my mother, she’d advised me to not say anything until I’d gotten the chance to think about what I wanted to say. Impulsive comments were no-good, so even if there were tons of paparazzi showing up at my school, I’d kept my voice box shut and attended my classes as if nothing happened.
My friends were tight-lipped and my co-workers never said anything to the press. They showed me that no matter how bad people were, there were still people with a good moral conscience that existed in the world.
“You’re growing up, little sis.” The hint of brotherly pride was indented in his voice. “I never thought I’d see the day where you’d stand up for someone you love and say fuck the media because of it.”
I chuckled at his words, Bishop seldom cussed when he talked to me. “He’s a good man. I wouldn’t fight for him if he wasn’t.”
“I’m glad I didn’t beat him up when he was still hanging around Kara.” Bishop laughed and I joined him.
Scott and Kara’s history would always be there.
Just like Dex and my history would be there.
The glaring difference was that Kara was a mature, intelligent woman who was very much in love with my brother.
While Dex was an immature toddler who only wanted me because I was now with the quarterback he wanted so badly to become.
“What time is it there?” My question was for my brother’s sake.
“Just a little before nine at night.” Bishop remarked and as if just realizing it, “Oh. It’s only five in the morning there, huh?”
“I’m sorry, sis. I just had to hear it from you. I was worried and I just wish –“ Bishop had already carried his and my cross for decades, he didn’t need to worry about me anymore.
“I’m okay. I’m tired, but I’m okay,” I said, telling him the complete truth. “Scott’s such a great support and mom’s been good, too. Just do your thing over there, and I promise I’ll let you know if things pour over the dam.”
He laughed again, “You sound like Scott, sis.”
“I’ve lost my identity then,” I chuckled, knowing that I wouldn’t have it any other way. Scott had been dragged through the mud because of this and he wasn’t even the one at fault. Everyone was pointing the finger at the wrong person, and all my boyfriend wanted to know was if I was okay. When I talked to him on the phone, I could hear the exhaustion in his voice, but he never failed to ask how I was doing.
“I hate being in the spotlight and you of all people know this,” I said, letting my brother know just how much Scott meant to me. “But I’m learning that sometimes saying nothing isn’t good. I’m trying to do everything that I can in school, but don’t be surprised if you see me out there with Scott.”
“You really love him, Bridge.” His voice held disbelief, “You’re facing your biggest fear because of him.”
“No, Bishop.” I said, calmness pouring over me, “I love him more than my fears, and he needs me to be there for him now more than ever.”
“Alright. I get it…Let me know if you need anything, okay? If you need me to do an interview about how much of a douche Dex is, just lemme know.” Bishop had his own pull in the world of sports. My brother had a halo in the field of rugby and everyone listened to him. If he made a statement about Dex, then there would be no doubt that Bishop was giving Scott and I his blessing, and Dex wasn’t to be believed, no matter how the media wanted to spin it.
But this wasn’t his fight.
“I’ll let you know.” Gratitude was conveyed through my voice and he knew it, “Thank you, Bishop. Now let me sleep.”
“Goodnight sis,” he said with a light laugh.
“For you it’s goodnight. For me, it’s good morning. Bye,” I smiled as I hang up the phone.
It didn’t matter if he was thousands of miles away, Bishop would always be there for me.
He was the best brother a girl could ask for.
And I couldn’t ask for more.
“They were asking me how long you and Scott have been together,” my best friend said as she made pancakes for breakfast.
She had a late class today, so at nine thirty she was still in her leggings and bra top.
“I gave them the middle finger and motioned for them to shove it up their asses,” she added as she placed the plateful of pancakes on our small glass dining table.
“Thank you.” I said as I typed on my computer, “I really appreciate it.”
I had an hour to spare before my lab partner would be calling me. I had enough lit review to challenge the research paper on the gravitational field in Saturn and how the current model does not take into account the shape of Saturn’s surface. I just had to make sure that my paper stated what it lacked and what could be done about it.
I grabbed the pancake on top and started chomping on it like it was sliced bread.
“No syrup today? Or is that the new way of eating pancakes?” Rianna’s tone was light, and it was nice to hear it. After four days of nonstop paparazzi following us, my best friend had just proven to me that she was made of a metallic, stable core. That she wasn’t going to be swayed by the promise of an exclusive or even the shine of a payout.
“I’m in a shrsurh.” My words were garbled as I ate the fluffy carb, “Rush.”
“Aren’t you always?” She said and I turned my eyes to look up at her. Her skin glowed from sweat so it wasn’t a wild guess that she’d just come from the gym and ran a mile or ten.
“Yes, but I need to finish this and I gotta get to lab and I have painting later…” I explained, and she nodded her head.
“Hey superwoman, I understand. Trust me, I do.” Her voice was placating and her eyes were filled with nothing but understanding.
“I’m just trying not to think of all the crazy drama around us.” I inhaled a large breath and exhaled slowly. People thought how fun it would be to be famous. I’d rather eat a skunk than be famous.
I couldn’t get to class without a parade of cameras trailing behind me.
They must be having a slow news week because I thought that the interest regarding Scott giving a statement that I was his girlfriend was going to wane, well, I thought wrong.
I hardly had time to go online, but Rianna kept telling me that Scott, Dex, and I had been trending. The karaoke incident video had apparently reached ten million views and the numbers kept rising. No one bothered to take them down because when one of them was shut down, another popped up. I guess everyone had a smartphone in that bar, and those phones hit record as the scene unfolded before them.
The only places that the photographers couldn’t follow me were inside the classrooms, lecture halls, and labs. They could go inside the lecture hall, but they were already filled to capacity and there was no-standing policy, so that deterred them.
I never said anything to them.
I wore the same clothes that I wore during my life before the cameras followed me. Jeans, plain shirts, sunglasses, and a backpack against my back.
“When will you break?” Rianna asked, her eyes gentle. Like me, she’d rather be invisible, but also like me, she had the tenacity of a tiger when called for. “This isn’t the life you wanted, Bridgette. I know that one of these days, all this attention will get under your skin and you will break. So tell me, my dear friend, when will you break?”
I pondered her question for a minute, then told her what I’d been thinking about for the past few days since the chaos had unloaded on us. “I don’t know… If I had a magic wand, I’d make every one of these photographers disappear, but I don’t, you know? All I have is myself and the love of my friends and…”
My eyes started to become wet, I was exhausted. It was exhausting being in the eye of scrutiny, where people took a shot at what I had for breakfast, or of me walking around campus with my classmates, or of me disappearing into the ladies’ room.
Two gentle hands wrapped around my shoulders, and Rianna didn’t say anything, she was just there. Letting me know she had me.
“I’ve stayed away from all of this. All of my life, my goal was to not be under the microscope of fame, but circumstances have brought me here and I just have to keep going. I’m not gonna break. I don’t think they’re going to make me break. They don’t know me. They want to get my comments, my reaction, post a video of me saying something about Scott or Dex, but I’m not going to,” I said solemnly. “I’m not sure if you’re going to understand this, but I realized that when you love someone, you may not like everything that comes along with that person, but you love them regardless.”
Her furrowed brows told me that she didn’t understand.
“Scott’s love comes with a lot of things. He’s a star in his chosen sport. Everyone’s curious about who he dates, who he’s with. He’s like Saturn – everyone is compelled to study that planet because of its beauty. In the vast Milky Way, it’s right there, hanging out in space, glowing like a lantern in a fog, its rings shining brighter than any other diamond known to man. It’s so massive, without disrespect to Jupiter, that if it were to be placed inside an ocean, it would undoubtedly rise above it.”
“I don’t get it…” Rianna said and I couldn’t blame her. It took me a while to understand my own feelings for football’s biggest star, but once I did, it gave me the fuel to love him even more.
“People will always be curious about him. I just happen to be the girl he’s dating, and if it weren’t for what happened with Dex, I doubt that the interest would be this gargan
tuan. Anyways, what I’m saying is that Scott will always be in the spotlight because of who he is to the Royals. Guys want to be him and women want to be with him. I can’t help any of that. I can’t control any of that,” I elaborated, finishing the last bits of pancake inside my mouth.
Dr. Fortez said that stressors would always be present. Life itself was a stressor. How I reacted to them was what mattered.
“I’m not going to be able to change Scott’s status. But I can tune my reaction on how his stardom affects me. I can’t blame him because he’s a great quarterback, or because he’s good-looking, or because he’s a good person. I can only blame myself if I didn’t give us a chance because of all those things,” I whooshed out the rest of my words.
“Who are you?” Rianna asked, we had been friends long enough to warrant the question. She knew me, she knew that I’d rather be camped on top of a mountaintop rather than have my pictures taken on a daily basis. “What did you do to my best friend?”
I gave her a big smile and shrugged, “I fell in love with a man worth fighting for.”
And it was one of the simplest, truest statements I’d ever said.
I’d seen the bags under Scott’s eyes when we Facetimed, he was tired of the off-the-field drama.
He didn’t have to say it, but I knew that his coaches gave him a few lectures about how to behave himself as a NFL Star.
He didn’t have to tell me that he wanted to just clobber the crap out of Dex, who according to Rikko, was still talking smack around the locker room.
Every time we chatted I wanted to relieve him of all the stress and bring him back to the times when we laughed at my inability to throw a football, or a piece of balled-up paper to a nearby trash can.
Everyone talked about seeing stars or feeling so high when they were in love.
But people hardly talked about the challenges that tested the love between two people just like how people don’t talk about the blisters that fame could cause.
I loved the idea of space, the stars, and the skies before I could even process the words to describe my feelings for them.