by A. M. Brooks
“It’s one,” Lyric says, her head tilting back, those blue eyes connecting with mine.
I smirk. “Better get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.” It’s an ongoing joke between us. Even though Lyric is eighteen and a senior, her dad has kept her on a curfew. Her mom lengthens it for us, though. Tonight I was told to have her home by one-thirty. She snorts and stands, hands running over her jeans and wiping off the dirt and grass.
“Heading out?” Tim asks, and we nod.
“Curfew.” Lyric rolls her eyes and smiles.
I grab her hand and take the now folded blanket from her. “See you tomorrow?” I look in Zane’s direction, and he nods.
“Take care of him, Zane,” Lyric warns him, sarcasm dripping in her voice because we all know it’s going to be the other way around. Zane has declared this week the college experience he’ll never have. My best friend enlisted in the Army this past fall, after being undecided for years about what he wanted to do.
Zane scoffs, his eyes sliding between Lyric and me. “Are you guys going to get married?”
Lyric lobs her half-eaten beef stick at him while I laugh. “Bye Zane,” she calls, when I tug her behind me and over to where my truck is sitting. As always, I help her in before rounding to my side. Once the key is in and we’re heading back toward our neighborhood, she finally talks to me.
“Are you nervous to go?” Her voice is timid and not at all like the confident girl I know.
I glance at her. “Nervous to visit or to go there this fall?”
“To visit.” She chooses her answer quickly, which instantly makes me relax. I know I sprung my idea on her. Sometimes when we talk about leaving this fall, I see the hesitancy flash in her eyes. I get being nervous to try new things. I know the campus is huge and that I will be busy the majority of the time with football, so Lyric taking such a leap of faith in our relationship means more to me than anything. What bothers me is that if she does have any conflicted feelings, she never talks about them. I’m hoping that means she will eventually get over it once we get there.
“No,” I shake my head, letting an easy smile fall on my lips, “It’s just a meet and greet. I’ll also play with the guys a little and get a feel for the school. As for this fall, I have absolutely no concerns at all. I can see everything perfectly. You and I grabbing your favorite iced coffee before class. Sneaking into your dorm, well not sneaking really, because, let’s face it, I’ll have your dorm advisor sorted in no time.”
She laughs. “Yeah, because you got that charming personality.”
“It always works, baby.” I wink at her, which makes her laugh again. After that, our conversation becomes easier as I tell her about all the plans Zane has for us in-between the team activities and scrimmages I’ll be attending. We laugh the whole way home.
When I pull up in her driveway, the house is quiet and dark, except for the outside lights that are still on.
“Promise you’ll call me at least twice,” Lyric asks, her body angling to face mine.
I slide my fingers through hers and bring her wrist to my lips. My eyes catch the instant goosebumps that rise on her flesh, and I smirk. “I promise.”
“And don’t forget to ask about the updated meal plan brochure. I can’t believe it’s not on their website yet. I need to plan.” She reminds me and my smile grows. Hearing those words is a huge relief.
“I won’t forget.” I shake my head. Out of the two of us, Lyric tends to be the forgetful one. Unless it was something I happened to say four years ago that made her upset. Funny how that always happens, but the girl can’t remember the days she works in a week without writing them down.
“Thank you.” She smiles and leans over to place her lips on mine. My chest instantly goes still from her nearness. Despite being around a bonfire for a few hours, I can still smell the sweetness from the body wash she uses.
My hand instantly shoots out to cup the back of her head and hold her lips to mine. No matter how many times we’ve kissed over the past couple of years, it never gets old. If anything, it only gets better. She kisses me like she wants to consume me, like I’m her world, and I keep kissing her back harder. I feel desperate and the feeling knocks me back on my feet. We’ve said goodbye to each other before for things like this; yet, something feels different. I can’t quite place it. Instead, I stuff the feeling in the back of my mind and cradle her face in my hands. Her blue eyes are shining and look somewhat tired. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips swollen. She leans in and gently places one last kiss on my lips before pulling back.
“I love you,” she tells me once more for good measure. My eyes track over her face. I can see her truth, and my body feels her sincerity.
“I love you more,” I answer, like always. She smiles and the small twinge of fear I felt earlier completely dies away.
Lyric opens her door and hops down. I wait until she steps inside her front door before backing out of her driveway and driving the ten feet to my own. Unlike Lyric’s home, my house is completely dark. A ghost house amongst the living and breathing families in our neighborhood. My jaw clenches. No matter how old I get, I wonder if I’ll ever let go of the resentment I feel toward them. The day I lost Alex, I also lost both my parents. Neither of them was strong enough to want to continue on for me.
Climbing out of my truck, I run up the stairs and step into the house. In the dark, I move toward the kitchen light above the sink and flip it on. If I’m home first, then that means Wes will need a guiding light to find his way around. If he even comes home. My eyes find the shrine, as I like to call it, hanging over the mantel in the living room across from me. All the picture frames are dusty, the box containing Alex’s folded flag is the only object that looks as if it gets any care. My chest pinches whenever I see it. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my brother or wish that he was here. If he had lived, would Mom have decided life was good enough to keep living?
“You honestly think throwing around a football means anything?” my dad hollers, his voice slurred. Judging from the numerous empty beer bottles set out on the sideboard, he’s had more than a few. My head lowers, listening to his words. “That,” he points to my brother’s pictures, “that is doing something. That is something that makes people take notice. Your brother is a hero!”
I nod, because yeah, Alex was a hero. My hero.
“Don’t you nod at me like that,” my dad says. Only this time, his voice cracks. My eyes slam shut. “If you had tried even half as hard as he did, maybe she’d still be here.”
He says it all the time, and by now, I’d think I’d be used to it. But every time his words still cut like a rusty knife, digging into my skin. He blames me for her dying.
“I am trying, Dad,” I tell him, hating how desperate my voice sounds. “I’m going pro someday. Colleges are lining up to give me a shot. I know I can do it.”
“It’s a stupid fucking game, Alex,” he yells.
“I’m Colt!” I yell back, my eyes filled with tears and rage. Why can’t he see me? How did I become invisible just because I’m living?
“Don’t talk back to me, boy!” He rages, suddenly climbing to his feet. I watch as his body sways forward slightly, looking for balance.
I scoff. “I’m not a boy, Dad. I’ve been more of the man around this place than you and you know it.”
“It should have been you. Throwing around a ball and you think you’re something special. They took the wrong kid!” Spit flies from his mouth. I watch while his skin becomes purple from all the dark rage he carries under his skin.
“Yeah, well they took the wrong parent too!” I mouth back, a second before there is a disturbingly loud crack, and my head flies to the side. The sting burns my skin, but it’s tame in comparison to the pain gripping its hand around the heart in my chest.
My chin drops to my chest, the grief threatening to eat me alive from the memories. My fingers dig into my pocket and whip out my cell phone.
“Miss me already?” Zane
’s voice flows from my speaker and into the quiet space.
“Okay if I crash at your place tonight? Then we can just leave from your house.” I wait a split second for his response. Zane isn’t stupid. He knows the piece of shit my dad has turned into. Even on the night before an important trip about my future, the lazy drunk can’t be bothered to be home.
“Good plan,” Zane answers, “I’ll leave the door unlocked. I’m just heading through town now.”
My mom was never the same after losing Alex. She quickly fell into a depression. Refused to leave the house or even to see AJ. He was a reminder of what she lost and nothing or no one could bring her back. I was the last one to leave home the day she died. I was twelve and desperate for her to be normal again. To cook a meal, to help me with homework, to even want to hug me goodnight. She called me into her room and had me sit with her. Her eyes were clear and I stupidly thought she was getting better. She held my hand and told me she loved me and she was sorry for being sad. When I got up to leave, hope spread through my chest, so much so that I didn’t even second guess when she asked me to hand her the bottle of her prescription medication. I left the house thinking my family was on its way to healing, only to come home to the coroner’s truck in my driveway while my dad broke down crying in his chair. She left us without looking back. Without even second-guessing her decision. The loss of one child outweighed the will to live for the other.
I tell Zane I’ll grab my stuff and be over soon. My feet hit the stairs with a little extra noise. In my room, I throw some clothes in my bag, before pulling up my floorboard to find the stash of cash I hid. I take out as much as I’ll need for food, gas, and the extra activities Zane has planned. Before leaving, I grab my suit from the back of my closet. The coach mentioned one team dinner with collegiate sponsors that he wanted me to attend. When I told Lyric, she made me go shopping for a nice suit then ironed it for me. The girl is an angel, I swear.
With one last look around the room, I head back upstairs and let the door slam on my way out. I should have told Lyric the real reason I have no fears about leaving the state for college. I’ve already been on my own for years. Putting some miles between that house and myself actually feels more like freedom than anything else.
Chapter Five
Colt
“Oh shit, you got to turn this one up.” Zane leans forward to turn the volume higher while belting out the words to Motley Crue’s “Home Sweet Home.” I join him when he gets to the chorus.
“I love road trips.” He shakes his head smiling. I glance at my friend, and for the first time, I notice the tightness in his smile.
“Are you okay, man?” I ask, turning the volume down a notch while we drive down another small-town road with the windows open.
He nods, looking around before shrugging. “It’s just weird how fast things are going, you know? We graduate in two months and then I literally leave a few days after that for basic. I will only be home for a day or two before you all leave for college, then who knows what will happen.”
“It’s not like we can’t talk still, Z,” I say to reassure him, “I’ll call when I can and text daily. If you can answer great, if you’re out in a forest looking for the other team’s flag, I’ll understand. You’re going to be busy too.”
He punches my shoulder. “Ass. You should just be glad you got our girl to come down here for school. That’s all you need to worry about.”
I scoff when he says our girl; he knows Lyric is mine, but we were all best friends first. “I know. I plan to do everything I can to make sure she likes it here. Besides, you know Lyric. Sometimes she needs help being pushed out of her comfort zone. Do you really think she would have been happy going to a smaller state college in Tennessee with all the same people we went to high school with?”
“No,” he answers and sighs because he knows I’m right. “I get it, just watch out for her, man. You’re going to be super busy, and if she can’t call me then who will she have? Camryn won’t be there either.” He bites his lip. I glance at him, noticing he’s genuinely worried about this.
“She’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. And if anything happens or I need your help, I promise I’ll let you know. You just be worried about keeping yourself alive,” I say, looking him up and down.
Zane laughs. “I’ll be at basic. I’ll be lucky if they even let me hold a rifle right away.”
“Shit happens,” I remind him, my brow lifting. “I still can’t believe you enlisted.”
He shakes his head, a smile pulling at his lips. “I knew if I talked to you first, you’d try and talk me out of it.”
“Damn straight,” I tell him.
“Colt, what happened to Alex was tragic, and I will never forget when you found out. But besides being sad for my friend, I was proud of him. He stood up for something he believed in and wanted to defend a country he loved. That feeling never left me. College, grad schools, being stuck in a job I hate…none of that was making me feel anything. I couldn’t get excited when college recruiters were at our high school; I was bored just listening to them. This is the right thing for me right now,” he explains the best he can.
I hear the excitement in his tone and decide to drop it. I’m not against the military because of Alex. I’m just worried about my best friend being in potential danger every day. “Yeah, man,” I respond, clapping him on the shoulder with my free hand. The rest of the drive flies by, us jamming to music, eating Pringles and gummy worms, and slamming energy drinks.
We’re just in time to check into our hotel when we reach Tuscaloosa. I park in the parking lot where Coach made our accommodations. We check in, drop off our stuff, shower and change before my first meeting. I let Zane drive to the campus because the excitement is starting to set in. This is real now. All the talk and planning that has been leading up to this and it’s finally here. I’ve never been outside of Tennessee, much less my hometown. Now I’m here, states away, and looking at a campus that houses almost forty thousand people. It’s insane.
Zane parks outside the stadium, where I’ve been told to go. For the first time since I received my letter almost a year ago, my stomach rolls with nervous energy. I flex my hand and grip my backpack.
“Well,” Zane says, keeping his eyes on the towering building, “I feel a proud parent moment coming on.”
“Dude, shut up.” I laugh and open my door. He also gets out.
“Ready for this?” he asks, nodding forward. My feet are stuck in place and I can’t move. Am I ready? All I’ve been talking about is escaping home and coming to Alabama and playing football. I have a whole future mapped out that I’ve never actually seen in person.
“Are you?” I turn and nudge him with my elbow.
“Hell yeah, man,” Zane laughs, “my poor military ass is going to defend our country then ride your coattails all the way to the NFL.”
“Someday,” I respond, laughing with him.
We walk over to the entrance, my eyes eating up our surroundings while Zane flirtatiously checks out the different girls that are walking by. Inside, we’re instantly greeted by the coach and a member from the admissions office. For the next few hours, we get a campus tour. We eat lunch off grounds but close enough to campus that we took a golf cart to get there. I go all out on the ribs, coleslaw, homemade macaroni and cheese and biscuits. I can’t remember the last time I ate this good. After lunch, we head back and I go over potential classes with a senior teacher’s assistant. Zane goes off with the trainer to check out their gym, after shooting me a thumbs up. He’s been entranced hearing all the information we’ve been given today. His brain melts when they mention perks of being a college athlete.
“So, what do you think so far, Colt?” Coach asks, his hand cupping his jaw.
“It’s amazing, Sir,” I answer, my throat working to swallow. I feel like I haven’t even come up for air after diving into the deep end. This experience is one I’ve only imagined and it feels too good to be true. It also overwhelming and I’m lost
on which questions I should be asking.
“Usually potential players have the opportunity to see this beforehand, but I know your case has been somewhat different,” Coach continues and I nod along with what he’s saying. My mind flashing to the house waiting for me to come back to.
“Yes, Sir,” I answer.
“Well, how about meeting the players? You could go through a practice with them,” he announces, and I instantly feel more focused.
“That would be awesome, Sir.”
I follow him into another wing, where we walk through a separate training and weight room. A few players are already using the equipment. They tip their heads in acknowledgment and I do in return. Some of these guys may be only a few years older than me, but I instantly take in their intensity and build. This is definitely not a high school team.
I get to a locker room before we arrive at the field. I can see Zane sitting in the stands along with another person from the school. He talks animatedly, hands flying in different directions. I don’t think he’s noticed me yet. Coach waves over one of the players, and he heads our way and introduces himself. We talk about what positions I play on my team and where my strengths and weaknesses are. Coach goes over my stats with the guy and then I’m led to the field.
I can feel Zane’s eyes drill into my back with every pass I drop and every player that makes it past me without being touched. Finally able to breathe, I unsnap my helmet and take the mouth guard out. What the fuck just happened?
The guy from earlier runs up to me. “Hey man, don’t take it too hard. We’ve all been playing at a different level for over two years together. This is not personal. It’s good to see where you’re at and where you need to be if you start playing with us.”
I catch his drift and I get what he’s saying, but it doesn’t do anything for my confidence. I’m shaken. My entire high school career, I’ve been lifted up, praised, coached specifically to get here and I feel like I just failed an extremely important test. My skillset feels inadequate. I’m a newborn amongst giants. I couldn’t tell the difference until I stepped onto the field with them. My chest tightens, fear clutching at all my vital organs. I’m either going to puke all over this guy’s cleats or pass the fuck out.