by Autumn Sand
I look down at myself. “No, I doubt it. I exercise every day.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I think you have. You need to cut back on those carbs, Sugar.” She pinches my chin, as if I was a five-year-old asking for a lollipop.
“Yeah. Sure.” I roll my eyes so slowly that, for a moment, I thought they would get stuck mid-roll. I squeeze Brice’s arm. “I would like you to meet my boyfriend, Brice Walker. He’s the quarterback for…”
“Where’s Jameson?” My dad interrupts.
My lips tighten together, and I count to ten before responding. “I don’t know, I didn’t invite him today. I thought it would be a great time for you to get to know my boyfriend…”
“Oh, there he is.” My father interrupts again and walks towards Jameson, who is walking down the pathway. They give each other a hug and walk over to my mother. Jameson gives her a huge hug, and my mother gushes.
I stand, watching the scene before me unfold. Brice’s arms tighten around my waist. He is pissed; I can feel the anger vibrating off his touch. I watch my parents as they have a conversation with Jameson, and completely forget that Brice and I are standing here.
“You weren’t kidding me,” Brice murmurs.
“Nope. If anything, I might’ve tried to sugarcoat it,” I whisper back my reply, as I continue to stare.
“Oh Favor, honey, you didn’t tell us that Jameson bulked up some,” my mother says as she squeezes his biceps. I choke back a gag.
“Mom, Dad, are you fucking kidding me? I’m trying to introduce you to my boyfriend, and you are being blatantly rude by ignoring him. You can’t be bothered enough to say hello?”
“Language, dear, language. You know I raised you to be a lady,” my mother admonishes me.
Is she for real? I look up at Brice, and he just shrugs his shoulders. I don’t think he can believe what he sees either.
“Favor. It has been explained to you time and time again. You will date someone at your level,” my father says through gritted teeth.
“What does that mean, Dad? You didn’t come from money. Neither did mom. Brice has an incredible future ahead of him. He is a good man, and I love him.” Shit, did I just say the “L” word out loud? Hell, I haven’t even admitted this to Brice yet.
“He is a scholarship student. Who are his people?” my dad asks.
“Un-fucking-believable. You were a scholarship student also, Dad. Who were your people? Let’s not put on airs.”
“Favor, language. People are going to think wolves raised you.” My mother once again tries to correct my foul language.
Okay, am I the only one who feels like they got transported in time? Are they the Stepford family of football? God, I wish my brother was here. He would’ve made a joke about it, and welcomed Brice into the family with open arms.
“Let’s go to lunch.” My dad looks over at Jameson.
“No problem, sir. I had a feeling you would be hungry by now. I took the liberty of making reservations for the four of us,” Jameson says to my father.
“Five.”
“What is that, dear?” my mother asks.
“Jameson said the four of us. There are five of us, unless Jameson plans on sitting lunch out?”
“Favor, I think we should stick to family only,” my father says.
“Oh okay. So then, it will be the three of us instead, because Jameson is no family of mine.” I fold my arms over my chest. This is an obvious stalemate, and I wait for my father’s next move.
“The two of you grew up together. We are close friends with his family,” my father tries to argue.
“Never mind, Dad. Why don’t you, Mom, and Jameson go to lunch. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow after the ceremony.”
“What? What is this, you say?” my mother asks.
“I’ll catch you after the ceremony tomorrow. Then the four of us can have dinner before you leave.”
“But you are sitting with us onstage, dear. So, that’s not after the ceremony. Actually, I want you to meet me at our hotel room in the morning. I bought some outfits for you to choose from for tomorrow,” my mother says, as she reaches into her purse for a handkerchief.
“If Jameson is on the stage, I’m sitting in the audience.”
“Now, Favor. This is not the time to discuss these things. Don’t be ridiculous. You will take your place on the stage with us,” my father roars.
“You choose. Jameson or me.” I dig my feet deeper on this, not willing to budge. I feel my blood pumping through my veins, as my father and I standoff against each other.
My father glares at me and then looks at Jameson. “Fine. Sorry, Jameson. It seems my daughter is more spoiled than I remember.”
“That is fine, sir. She’ll grow out of it one of these days,” Jameson replies as he glares at me as well.
I look around and realize that our group has grown quite the audience. People are snickering and taking photos. My mother did raise me to be polite, so I smile and wave at the people. Brice tugs on my arm. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Being polite and minding my good southern manners, dear sir,” I say in a very fake, drawled out accent.
Brice spins me around and slaps me with such a powerful kiss I feel my knees buckle. “There. Now we gave everyone something to talk about.”
My father looks as if he is about to have a coronary from our very public display of affection. My mother signals to me that my lipstick is smudged. People gradually come up to my father and ask him for his autograph, as Brice and I stand off to the side and watch.
“Wow. And to think I thought of him as my idol all those years,” he says, still in shock.
“Not anymore?”
Looking at me directly in the eyes, he shakes his head. “Not anymore.”
We begin to kiss again, and he lifts me up to get better access to my lips. I hear a loud gasp from my mother, and I pull away from Brice, assuming her gasp was meant for us. Brice puts me down, and I turn to look. Wayne is walking towards my parents. He looks horrible, like a man who is the walking, breathing dead.
“What are you doing here?” my father demands.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hollister, I just want to say…”
“There is nothing you can say that we care to listen to. You killed our only son. It’s because of you that we have to do a dedication ceremony instead of cheering him on in a stadium,” my father roars at him.
Jameson moves forward and pushes Wayne away. Wayne stumbles, but does not fall. I watch him as the crowd laughs at him. He walks slowly away, an utterly broken man. Oh, my God. How did I not see this before? We never allowed him to move forward. Me, my mother, and my father; we never gave him permission to move forward and live. He may have been driving the vehicle that killed my brother, but we are the ones that are killing him. I make up my mind in this moment that I will try to move on and forgive him. This anger we are harboring is doing no one any good, and it is tarnishing my brother’s name in the end. My brother was always a forgiving person. I am positive he’d be ashamed of us right now.
My mother begins to cry, and my father holds her, rocking her in his arms, as Jameson stands next to them as their acting guard dog. I look at Brice. “I’m so embarrassed of my family right now.”
Kissing my forehead, no words need to be spoken between us, to understand the weight of that statement.
Chapter 14
Brice
I can honestly say I’m not a fan of Favor’s parents, and they will not be sending me any well wishes either. When she told me about them a few weeks ago in the hotel room, I thought she was exaggerating. Boy, was I wrong. Hell, they are worse than what she said, if that’s at all possible. Kyne Hollister is a douche of the class-A variety, right up there with Jameson. Who the hell names their kid Jameson anyway?
After yesterday’s fiasco, Favor was extremely worked up about her parents’ behavior towards me. I’m a big boy, so I just shrugged it off. But I didn’t want her to feel bad about it, so I took her out to dinne
r, and then made love to her until the early morning hours. When she left my bed just after dawn, it instantly felt cold and empty. I miss her touch, her scent. I just miss her.
“What time do you have to be at the dedication ceremony with the team?” Egon asks from his side of the room.
“Coach wants all of the players to show up at one.”
“Good. It gives us time to grab something to eat.”
The glaring red light on my digital clock flashes eleven o’clock. “Let me take a quick shower.” I stand up and stretch my sore muscles, courtesy of yesterday’s practice.
“Dude, you bulking up?”
“Coach has us training hard. We have a shot at the Championships. The away game in the next couple of weeks will seal the deal for us.”
“Sweet. NFL, here you come.”
“I hope so. If I can keep the momentum going, yeah, I don’t see why not.” I shake my head in disbelief. I’ve worked hard all these years for this moment, and this moment alone. Finally, it’s about to become a reality, and I can’t believe how lucky I am. I have a beautiful girlfriend and a sensational career in my future.
“It would’ve been helpful if your girl’s dad would give you a good word.”
“True, but hey, I made it this far based on my hard work and skill, so I expect it to carry me the rest of the way. Besides, I wouldn’t want Favor to ever think that I used her or her family’s connections to get in.”
“You really like this girl.”
“No bro, I love this girl.”
Egon’s eyes bug right out of his head. I don’t think either one of us ever thought we would see the day when we would utter those words. “You love her?”
“Yeah. And she loves me.”
“Damn. She is good for you. I like her. And your kids will be so gosh darn pwetty.” He crosses his arms in front of him, batting his eyes, hamming it up.
“Fuck you, bro. Let me hit the showers. Be out in a few.”
****
When we left our dorm, we were hit with the hushed whispers about what went down in front of Favor’s dorm yesterday, so we opt to go to a greasy spoon restaurant off campus to eat. Grabbing the first seats we set our eyes on, the waitress comes over and pours us some coffee.
“Y'all from the campus, right?” the waitress asks in her southern lilt.
“Yes, ma’am.” Egon puts on the charm. She smiles and her cheeks turn a bright pink before she turns to me.
“You’re that quarterback for the Cougars?”
Guess it’s my time for the charm. “Yes, ma’am.”
She clutches her notepad to her chest and smiles from ear to ear. “My son is a huge fan. He goes to all your games. Says he wants to be like you when he grows up.” Her voice turns high-pitched, and for a moment, I wonder if she is a fan of mine as well.
“Thank you, ma’am. Perhaps, one day, I can meet your son, and sign his football for him,” I say honestly. Hell, I used to be just like her son when I was a kid. Looks like it’s my turn to pay it forward.
Her eyes turn star struck. “You’d do that?” she whispers, as if I told her a dirty joke.
“Absolutely.”
“That is just so sweet. He’d love that.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“I’m going to call my husband now and see if he can bring him over with his football. Thank you so much. And the food is on the house for you and your friend here.”
“Why thank you, ma’am, from both of us,” Egon chimes.
We give her our order, and she rushes off to the back; I guess to make her phone call.
“I love hanging out with you,” Egon says while taking a slurp of his coffee.
“Why, because of the free food?” I smirk.
“Yep, why else?” He smiles, giving me a toothy grin.
We always tease each other like this. The shoe is usually on the other foot when we go to clubs where he’s played before. “Going home for Winter break?”
“I might have a meeting with a record company around that time. So, I don’t know. I’m still up in the air.”
“Damn, bro. That is incredible. Congrats.”
He holds up his hands. “Well it’s just a meeting, but we’re keeping our fingers crossed.”
“You worked hard for this. They’ll make you an offer, I know it.”
“Who would’ve thought, all those years ago in Philly, when you and I were playing out in the streets and talking about our dreams, that all this shit would happen?” We had a lot of odds going against us, especially growing up in the rough side of Philly. Instead of making drug deals, Egon and I dreamed of a future without orange jumpsuits. Most of our old crew is either locked up, dead, or still on the same street corner, talking about missed opportunities.
I sit back and reflect. “Yeah, you’re right. But I think it was something in me that kept pushing for it, and I just knew.” It was evident to me the day we found out our friend in the seventh grade was killed by a stray bullet from a drug buy that went wrong.
“Yeah, same here. We’ve been best friends since we were seven years old.”
“Yep.” Neither one of us talk about it, but we both know that was a day that changed us.
“Man, at the risk of sounding like a chick…our lives are going in different directions pretty soon…”
I cut him off. “Don’t even think that shit. We’re more than best friends, we’re family. We’ll find a way to keep the bromance alive.” I had to throw in a joke. This mushy shit is too much.
“Well, I heard long distance relationships are hard.” He mock cries.
“As long as you don’t cheat on me.”
“Cheating on Favor already?” Regan interrupts, standing over our table.
This chick is like an insect, always popping up when you got company. “What do you want, Regan?” I groan out.
“Where’s Favor? Two of you broke up?”
Is it just me or is this chick delusional?
“None of your business where my girlfriend is.”
“You know, Regan, you’re making me regret fucking you more and more,” Egon responds.
“Just thought you’d be with her, getting ready for the dedication ceremony.”
“I’m sitting with the team. I think that is a given.” I straighten in my seat.
“Are you two going to ask me to sit down?”
You see, I was right. Delusional. “Fuck no. I don’t want to give people the impression that we’re slumming it.”
Her eyes grow hard toward me. “I don’t know what Favor sees in you. You’re so rude.”
“What she sees in me is a man that loves her. End of story.”
“Puhleeze Brice, I think it’s that other L word, and its not love.”
I open my mouth to spit out some harsh knowledge for her, but our waitress suddenly appears.
“Let me grab you a chair, honey.” She turns to a table and takes a chair from it, placing it at our table so Regan can sit. “What will you have, sweetheart? Are you one of these boys’ girl? You’re pretty enough to be.”
Regan sits, and a huge smile appears on her face. “Oh, why thank you. I’ll have a western omelet please, with turkey bacon.”
The waitress walks away to put in Regan’s order.
“What the fuck?” Egon complains.
“What? She was so sweet, who am I to correct her?”
Fuck me. Thank goodness no one from school is around to see her sitting with us. It wouldn’t look good.
We finish our breakfast, and the waitress’s son comes over with his dad. I sign the football for him, and promise to get him box seats for my next home game. Me, Egon, and Regan step outside into the cool afternoon air. Egon and I begin walking towards the car, and Regan is walking behind us.
“What are you doing?” Egon asks.
“Coming with the two of you,” she responds.
“What?” My eyes narrow, wishing my death glare would make her disappear. “How did you get here?”
“My ride left me. I saw the two of you through the diner’s windows, and came in.”
Fuck. I give Egon a look, and he shrugs his shoulders at me. Good looking out, bro. “Well, call your friend, and have them come back to get you,” I say.
“Come on. You would leave me out here in the street to wait for a ride?”
“Yeah, that is pretty much what I’m thinking.” Am I a dick for saying yes? Probably, but I don’t care.
“I’m going to be late for the dedication if you do that to me,” she pouts.
Fuck. I better get into heaven for this good deed. “Fine. I’ll give you a ride, but just don’t talk. I like to pretend that you don’t exist.”
She rolls her eyes at me at first, but then it seems something catches her attention. She takes a step forward but trips, right into my arms. I hold her up until she gets her footing. She smiles and places her hands on my biceps.
“Brice?” I hear Favor’s voice.
I turn around to see Favor, and her mother and father, dressed for the dedication ceremony. This does not look good. Fuck, can my day get any worse?
I remove Regan’s hands from me and walk over to Favor and her family.
“Good afternoon, Mr. & Mrs. Hollister.” I nod to her parents and look at my confused girlfriend. I step closer to Favor and give her a kiss on the cheek, whispering that I’ll explain everything later. She searches my eyes and nods.
“Shouldn’t you be on campus for the dedication?” Mr. Hollister’s voice has a tone of irritation and boredom.
“Yes sir, I’m on my way back now. Egon and I came out for breakfast.”
“And what about your girlfriend?” Mrs. Hollister asks, looking at Regan, who is smiling and waving behind me.
My actual girlfriends face turns crimson. “Favor is my girlfriend, as you know, ma’am. Regan is-”
“Regan is with me. Hi, I’m Egon. I’m Brice’s best friend.” Egon holds his hand out for Mr. Hollister to shake and he kisses Mrs. Hollister’s hand. Forever the Romeo, he is.
“Oh, she didn’t look like she was with you the way she held on to Brice,” Mrs. Hollister adds, looking from Regan to myself.