by A. M. Brooks
“Yeah,” I tell him, nodding my head. He gives me a sharp slap on the helmet and we run through a few more of their drills. By the end of the afternoon, I’ve sunken so far into a pit of self-pity, I can’t see the top anymore.
“Street!” Coach calls to me, before I follow the other players into the locker room. I wait for him to catch up, feeling wary over what he’s going to say. “There’s always room for improvement, kid. I like for players to experience this because this is the level where I need new players to be and fast. I think you have potential, but you need to have the heart to push to that level. You get what I’m saying?” I nod my head, even though, no, I have no clue what that means. Can I make this team or not? Have I organized my entire life around the assumption that this was easy and I worked hard in high school so this would be no problem? Did I make Lyric give up her college dream to follow mine only for me to fail? I never pictured anything other than coming here and playing, thinking she’d just be there with me.
I can feel the pit in my stomach growing and expanding until I literally can’t breathe. I rush out of there, ignoring the showers, and return the borrowed equipment. I think I hear someone call my name, but I keep moving. Adrenaline, pain, embarrassment flood my blood stream and push my legs to flee. I run out of that space while my dream laughs at me, mocking the things I had built-up in my head until all I hear is his voice, reminding me I’m not special. Throwing a football will never make my father respect me or make him proud. Nothing I ever do, nothing about me will ever be enough for them.
By the time I reach my truck, Zane is sitting in the driver side. I jump in and buckle, even though I keep having morbid thoughts about not caring at all if something were to happen to me. Zane ignores my sweat and the smell I didn’t take time to wash off. He says nothing while driving both of us away from the campus and back to our hotel. He lets me move past him to get into the bathroom and doesn’t even give me shit when I slam the door closed. I know the steady sound of the running water does little to hide my dry heaving. With my head buried in the toilet, tears clinging to my eyelashes, I have a moment of clarity. I need a new plan. I need to get out of my town and out of the state. I want to remove myself from the country, if possible. I can’t go back and face my coaches, the town or Lyric. All I’ve done for a year is talk up Alabama to Lyric, convincing her she would be happy there. And if I’m not playing ball, I’ll let everyone who has been backing me since Freshman year down. I can’t be a failure to any of them. Most of all, I don’t want my father to be right.
I step out of the bathroom, and Zane sits up on the bed, his eyes assessing me. Avoiding his gaze, I put on the suit I bought for the dinner I had thought would cement my place on the Bama football team. I leave the red tie, though. I slide into the dress shoes I spent a whole paycheck on, hoping they were enough for me to appear as put-together as this suit.
“I need to take a drive. You coming or not?” I throw out, my tone glacial, my eyes pleading for him not to ask questions. Zane slowly nods his head and pockets his cell phone. We make it back into my truck and I start the engine. Lee Brice’s “I Drive Your Truck” starts to play on the radio.
“I need you to do me a favor, yeah?” I turn to my best friend. He opens his mouth to speak, but whatever he sees on my face, has his mouth closing real fast. His jaw works against his emotions. Usually we’d be having it out right now. For some reason, though, he’s actually keeping quiet since we left the college.
“Yeah, okay,” he responds, and I watch while his fists tighten.
“You can’t tell her anything,” I say, my gaze turning to look out my window; I can’t see if he looks disappointed that way. I know I’m asking a lot of Zane, considering she’s his friend too and what I’m about to do will be detrimental to all of us. I can’t make myself care though. In the end, she’ll thank me. When she realizes she wasted so much time on me and our relationship, she’ll be thankful I did this.
My eyes slide to Zane who is also looking out the window. His skin is reddish. He’s battling his own emotions, but I don’t miss the way he slightly tilts his head. I’m selfish for asking this of him. I know it.
“How did you know you made the right decision?” I ask him, once I park in front of the long strip mall. Zane’s eyes bore into the side of my face.
“It felt like a calling. I had no other choice,” he answers, shaking his head.
I bolt from the truck and make my way inside. I’m way over dressed, looking more like I should be going to a job interview at the insurance agency next door.
“Can I help you?” The uniformed man at the front desk rises and greets me with a handshake. He’s taller than me, broader, and blank-faced. His eyes are sharp as they take me in. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.
“I wanted to talk to someone about enlisting,” I tell him, eyes making contact, and my hand shaking equally as firm.
His eyes slide over my attire, before coming to rest on my face. His brow lifts. “What makes you think you’re good enough to join our team?”
Chapter Six
Lyric
He’s lying to me. The realization hits me square in the chest and rattles my heart around in my rib cage. Ever since they got back from spring break, two months ago, Colt and Zane have been twitchy. Zane barely meets my eyes and refuses to study with me after school. Colt is guarded. He answers my questions with non-answers or his own open-ended questions. We’ve been fighting more too. Lately, all he wants to do is workout after school and on the weekends. He’s bulked up, and my stomach twists, hoping he didn’t decide to start taking supplements because of college football. His behavior is erratic and now I can add lying to the list. I wanted to spend time with him today after school and he said he couldn’t because he had something important to ask his old coach about. I may sound like the crazy girlfriend, but I’m worried. This isn’t like him and, with graduation tomorrow, I’m jumpy.
I palm my forehead, unable to believe I actually snuck into the gym where the coaches have their offices and stalked the door, waiting for him. I feel like an idiot. He never showed and when Coach caught me, he said he never had plans with Colt.
My brain flies over every bit of information. All things go back to spring break. Dread layers my gut. Is he cheating on me? I would be less worried, except that would explain Zane’s behavior, too. I was stupid to think he was my friend, enough to tell me if something was going on, then I have to remind myself he was Colt’s friend first.
Biting my lip, I cross my arms over my chest, as if I can hold in all the anguish my body is fighting to let out, and I speed walk to my car. Tears blur my vision and I swallow repeatedly to keep my sobs locked down. I need to speak to Colt. I want answers. Even if it’s the worst thing possible and he cheated on me, I need to know. It’s the unknown in this situation that freaks me out. Colt’s never been secretive. Graduation is tomorrow, and we literally leave for Alabama in three months. I can hear my dad’s warnings, about following my boyfriend to college, blaring in my mind. He wasn’t happy about my decision. He didn’t want me that far away. The look in Momma’s eyes, the one of happiness but also guilt because she wasn’t happy for me either, is still like a fresh slash to my heart. She knew I based my plans on Colt and that I wouldn’t have picked Alabama if it wasn’t for him. She reminded me gently to not lose myself by going with him. I had to plead my case to both of them so much over Christmas break this past winter that we ended up barely enjoying the holidays. I don’t want to be wrong about Colt. I can’t afford to be.
I take my cell out and try calling him again. This time, it goes right to voicemail, and I barely restrain my arm from chucking the phone on the ground. I’m turning into one of those girls completely fueled by emotion and making choices I’ll probably regret later. Once I’m in my car, I lose it. Tears and sobs flow in the silence. I can’t breathe and everything, everything hurts. My cheeks sting with embarrassment. I need to drive home and find a way to turn my mind off for a while. I just
need to survive tonight.
Graduation is like nothing I had built up in my head. After failed attempts at getting ahold of Colt yesterday, I went to bed with a headache and my stomach twisted in knots. He never called me back. At one this morning, he sent a text saying we would talk after graduation. One moment I was blissed out to finally hear from him and the next I’m pissed he thinks it’s okay to act like this and make all the decisions. He’s had zero regard for my feelings.
I’m keeping my distance. With our names being far apart in the alphabet, I watch through tears as he accepts his diploma. His eyes touch briefly on mine and I swear I see regret in his. It doesn’t make sense. My head bows. When our caps fly in the air, I don’t even take in the glitter that swirls around me after. Nothing is as it should be.
I don’t wait for Colt after, instead choosing to get in the car with my parents and head to Roadside, our local BBQ joint and event center. Instead of a grad party, we had all chosen to eat here with our families and have a combined party. It had been something I was looking forward to all year, but now it feels like a social obligation when all I truly want is to be home and hiding under my covers. As much as I want to have it out with Colt, I’m terrified.
I make small talk with our group of friends, even while I feel Colt’s eyes on me from across the room. He stands off to the side with Zane and Tim. To my surprise, Colt’s dad came as well. I wonder if Colt is happy about it or frustrated like always. I don’t want to think about him right now. I try to smile and laugh instead. My body makes its way around the restaurant, stopping for pictures or signing yearbooks. Momma attempts to get me to eat, but I can’t. Her lips turn into a frown and I see the questions in her eyes, so I stay away from her too. The only other person in the world who could pull the rug out from under the façade I’m running with right now would be her. And it hurts too much to lie to her.
My mind is running around so much that I flinch when he grabs my wrist. My eyes dart up to Colt’s, who’s watching me, and I wonder if he can see that he’s slowly breaking my heart.
“Come outside with me?” he asks, his head tilting toward the side doors. I feel my spine straighten. My stubbornness bubbles to the surface.
“Just say it here,” I tell him, looking around the room and gritting my teeth together.
His head hangs down, but he moves closer to me. “I enlisted.”
“Repeat that,” I tell him, tilting my head to hear him better. There’s no way I heard him correctly.
“I enlisted,” Colt says again, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. “I’m not going to Alabama.”
My mouth drops open before I snap it closed. Tears sting my eyes and threaten to spill. “Enlisted, as in joined the military?” He nods slowly. I suck in air, needing to get oxygen to my brain before my body decides to shut down. Anger simmers in my blood. “Are we going to talk about this? Do I get a say?”
Colt steps back from me and I shudder. “It’s already done. Zane and I both leave in two days for basic.”
I can’t move. Blood rushes through my ears, my heart spasms in my chest, while the pain starts to seep into my bones. It hurts to breathe, to think, to talk. Colt steps around my frozen frame and moves to the center of the restaurant.
“Hey everybody!” I hear him yell, and Zane steps up next to him, whistling between his fingers. The room quiets and everyone turns to watch Colt. I feel eyes land on me as well. My arms wrap around myself, trying to hold myself together.
“Ah, I just have a quick announcement to make. I wanted you all to be the first to know,” he starts out, a half-smile on his face, but he looks nervous. I hope that nervousness eats him alive. “Awhile back I made a decision that changed my life. I know for the past four years ya’ll have watched me every Friday night and everyone in this town has always supported our Wolverine football team…”
“Here-Here,” shouts someone in the crowd. A few others start howling.
Colt’s hands come up to gain their attention. “I know a lot of you were looking forward to watching me play college ball as well, but I’ve had a change of plans. I joined a bigger team. A team of incredible men and women that fight for freedom and for our country. I’m now a soldier in the United States Army.”
The silence is deafening before a slow clap starts. For the first time I look up at Colt. He doesn’t look smug or cheerful. He knew this would be the outcome, and he still went through with it anyway. Slowly people start to come forward to congratulate him. Most of them are wearing shocked expressions and a few known veterans look proud. My parents stand in the back, and I pretend to ignore the looks they’re shooting my way. Obviously, with one look at me right now, they have to know I did not expect this or know anything about it.
Boots stomping across the room, followed by a slammed door draws my attention. I see Mr. Street walking away from the building. I bite my lip right as Colt moves next to me.
“I have to go,” he nods to his dad, “we can talk more later.”
I want to stomp my foot and demand that he talk to me now, except I can barely find my voice. He moves past me and leaves. A hushed murmur goes around the room. I feel exposed, left out and abandoned.
“Lyric,” Zane starts to say next to me and I hold up my hand to shut him down.
“You knew,” I say, rather than ask. Zane at least has the decency to look at the floor while he nods his head. Another pierce of betrayal to my heart.
“He asked me not to say anything---“
“Stop!” I hold my hand up again; this time, a few tears escape. “I know he was your friend first. I just thought I was your friend too.”
“You are,” he starts to argue back.
“Friends don’t lie to each other! Do you have any idea how lost I’ve felt these past months? Like I did something wrong? I would have cheered him on if he had told me. At least I wouldn’t look like an idiot being blindsided like everyone else!” My last words come out louder than anticipated. I hear Momma’s voice call my name, but it’s too late. I’m already humiliated enough. Without thinking, I run for the door.
I kick off my wedge heels and run barefoot down the sidewalk. I don’t run home but to the place that, for the last two years, has become my favorite. I run to the park in the center of town. I need our tree, I need the sentiment, I need the memories in order to push everything else away. I want to plan and figure out how I can make this better. I fold myself up and sit under the branches of the huge maple. I want to puke at the same time I want to laugh. Everything is a mess. What started out as what should have been one of the best days in my life is a complete nightmare.
I don’t want to go to Alabama without Colt. All he has to do is ask and I will go wherever he is. I never truly had a plan for college, like some kids my age do. Until two years ago, I had been fine believing I would go to community college here or even a state school. The minute Colt brought up Alabama, I started building my future around the classes and majors they offered. Not having a plan before Colt didn’t scare me. Going there now, alone, does.
Lyric: Can you meet me? I need to talk to you.
I text out the words and hit send before I can stop myself. My eyes pinch shut while a wave of shame ripples through me. My cell phone twirls in my fingers. Minutes pass before I get a response.
Colt: Sure
I slide my arms around my knees, hugging myself and staring at the deep indentation of our initials. After two years and the changes of the seasons, it hasn’t faded. Time ticks by and the sun sinks in the sky. The park’s lights pop on, creating a yellow glow, warming my surroundings. Footsteps crunching on gravel pull my attention.
My face tilts up to his. Colt’s button-down shirt is rumpled, a few of the buttons popped off. His long locks fall over his eyes.
“What happened?” I ask standing, my hand reaching out to cradle his face, to trace the red bruise that is already turning purple around his eye.
“Difference of opinion,” Colt mutters, and I notice his lip looks split as
well.
“Your dad did this?” I ask, stepping forward again, only this time, Colt pulls back.
“Like I said, we don’t agree on my life choices.”
“That’s not a reason for a father to hit his son, Colt,” I tell him, my voice rising an octave. My hands ball at my sides. I blame Mr. Street for the way Colt feels about himself. For the way Colt always is trying to get his approval when he doesn’t need it.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asks, his eyes on anywhere else but me.
“Seriously?” I ask. “How about the bomb you just dropped. Were you even going to tell me?”
“Yes,” he huffs, “I tried to. It was hard though. I knew you would be mad if I told you and I didn’t want to ruin the rest of your senior year.”
“Colt, I have done nothing but worry about you and what’s happening to us since you came back from spring break. That’s when you should have told me. Not minutes before you announce it to a room full of people. You think I haven’t noticed the deflection or the change in your behavior. I’m not stupid!” I don’t care that I’m ranting. It feels too good to get this off my chest. How could he possibly hide this for months?
“I know you’re not. This was something I needed to do for myself. After we got to Alabama, it just didn’t feel right. The calling I thought I’d feel to the football field wasn’t there. Listening to Zane talk got me really thinking that maybe I was made for something different. It runs in my blood,” he answers, his face slowly shutting down. I barely recognize the person in front of me.
“Fine,” I tell him, my shoulders shrugging, “I’ll support any decision you make. So what about us?”