by Tiya Rayne
“Parker Shaw told me he saw you with that colored girl again.”
I didn’t feel like this conversation right now.
“African American, Dad. Not colored, this isn’t the 60’s.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Boy. I’ll call her what she is. A colored, a negro, a nigg…”
“You will not finish that word.”
I’d started to look over my families remarks about Zora. Sometimes you couldn’t change a person’s ignorance, but that was one word that was off limits. Although my parents fought all the time, my father had never struck me or my sister. However, if he thought he could call Zora that ugly name, he would have had to fight me that day.
He eyed me as he popped the top to his cheap beer and took a swig—all done without so much as lifting his head from the arm of the couch.
“What is it about that girl? Huh? It’s so many good white girls out there that looks a million times better than that…..girl. Why can’t you pick one of them?”
This had been a constant discussion in our house. Before I started to date Zora, my parents never had a harsh thing to say about the African Americans in this town. I knew there was some bad stuff between the races back in the 70’s, but my parents seemed to keep out of it. The moment my relationship with Zora went public, you would have thought we stepped back into the 60’s. My parents despise Zora for two reasons, the color of her skin and her financial status. Ironically it was the same two reasons Zora’s parents hated me. Except, my parents were angry with her parents’ success. As if it’s the Henderson’s fault my dad is an alcoholic and a cheat, and my mom got pregnant in high school.
“I love her, Pop.” I replied to his earlier inquiry.
And really there was no other explanation.
I have loved that girl since I first saw her in Mrs. Morgan’s first grade class. She turned to me, smiled, and stole my heart.
“She’s only with you because she thinks you’re going pro. Dumb broad doesn’t know that you’ll never get that far. One wrong hit in the knee and you’re back here with us.”
Love the support, Pop. He’d been cynical about my football future because I’m living his dream. No one would have looked at Roy Trent then and thought he was once an All-American quarterback for the same high school I’m at now. One drunken night with my mother halted his dreams of going to college. Nine months after that night, my sister Holly was born.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see.” I turned to go into my bedroom I shared with my nephew.
“You’re bringing shame to this family, running around with that girl.” Another sip from his beer.
My hands clenched at my sides. He’s a fine one to talk about shame. I wish I had told him that nothing was worse than being a lazy drunk that stuck his dick in every tramp around town, but instead I bit my tongue. Only three more months until I graduate and leave this house. Before I disappeared down the hall my phone rung and her beautiful face popped up on the screen. My mood immediately lightened.
“Hello, Beautiful.” I said answering the phone.
“Luke.” Her tearful voice had me on high alert.
“Zo, what’s wrong?”
“Luke,” she whispered. “I need to see you. I need you to meet me in our spot.”
I was headed back out the door before she finished her sentence.
“I’m on my way, baby. I’ll be there soon.”
With tears swimming in her eyes, she looks up from the blanket on the floor when I strolled back through the door of the old abandoned one room school.
Someone had put a dead cat in the back seat of her car with a note attached that stated “The only good nigger is a dead one.” Her parents had not too long given her the car back after the Buck Mitchell fiasco. My knuckles still ached to lay into that asshole again. She didn’t want to tell them about this new discovery out of fear they would take it away again, or worse, finally send her to her Aunt and Uncle’s in North Carolina like they’ve been threatening to do.
“Did you get it?”
“Yeah, baby. I buried it in a shallow grave out back. Come here.” I opened my arms and she came rushing towards me.
“I’m so sick of this, Luke. Why are people being so cruel, it’s not like we’re hurting anybody.”
I stroked my hand down her long black hair, twirling my fingers around the curls at the end. I loved running my hands in her hair, even though she told me not to. She always wore it long and straight with just a few curls at the end. I loved her hair like that. She said I shouldn’t get used to it because it wasn’t hers, but it’s the only style she ever wore.
“Maybe……” She sniffled into my shirt. “Maybe we should take a break for a while.”
My hand stilled in her hair and my body tensed. I pulled away slightly and looked down at her tear filled gaze. Her eyes the color of my favorite fudge.
“No, Zora. They don’t get to win.”
She stepped away from me, collapsing down on the blanket. She tucked her legs into her chest resting her chin on her knees.
“Do you still love me?” I asked.
She cut her eyes to me and I could see I’d just asked the wrong question. “How can you ask me that, you know I love you with all my heart.”
I sat on my knees in front of her. “Then don’t let them get to you, Zo. We got five more months and then we’re free. I’ll get my Pell Grant in August, and get us a small apartment near college. We will be away from this hateful town. Can you wait that long?” I didn’t tell her she didn’t have a choice because I was never letting her go.
“Just five more months?” she asked cracking a dimpled smile.
I smiled, relieved she didn’t try to fight me on this. “Three in a half before graduation, and two before we can get our own place.” I confirm. “That’s just the beginning. One day, Zora, I’m going to buy you a huge farm house. It will be bigger than any house you’ve seen.”
“Really?” she smiled playfully.
“Yea, and we will have chickens, cows, and horses.” I joked, reminding her of my old childhood plans. “And we will fill the house up with kids, six…..”
“SIX??”
“All boys too, Peyton, Kobe, Jordan, Tony…..”
“Wait, why are all of our kids named after famous athletes?”
I held up a hand, “Quiet, this is my fantasy.”
She laughed and I took pride in making her.
“….Can we at least have a female dog.”
I playfully rolled my eyes as if I was annoyed. “Fine, a female dog named…”
“Serena.”
I chuckled at her contribution to the sports names.
“Fine, Serena it is.” I watched the tears dry up and her eyes filled with happiness. That’s how I always want to see my girl.
“I’ll make you happy, Zora.” My voice is sober as I look into her eyes.
She raised up on her knees to get on level with me, then leaned forward for a kiss.
“You already do, Luke.”
She kissed me again, parting my lips with her tongue. What was supposed to be a slow, brief kiss turned steamy. My hand glided to the back of her head as I angled my head slightly to take the kiss deeper. She moaned into my mouth and I had her underneath me before I could even think about it. With my hands on both sides of her head, I held my weight off of her. Looking down into her eyes I could see all the most vulnerable parts of her. The things she hid from others, including me. I could see how scared she really was with all that’s going on.
Within seconds, she confirmed my suspicions.
“I’m scared, Luke. I’m scared they will win, that they will take you from me.” Her small hand rubbed the side of my face. I took that hand in mine and placed kisses on each fingertip.
“I’ll never let that happen.” I was determined for that to be true. There were many things in my life I would’ve given up, but not Zora.
“Make love to me, Luke.”
She never had to ask me for that. I knew she
needed me, she needed that connection to me. For us, sex wasn’t just about the physical pleasure. Sure, we both enjoyed it, but sex with Zora was like reuniting our souls. It was as if, for a brief moment, we were fully connected to the other half of us.
We were each other’s first, and since our—very brief—first time, I’d gotten substantially better. I made short work with undressing her, never taking my lips from hers any longer than it took to pull her shirt from over her head. My tongue tasted and savored a trail from her chin to her breasts. Her small globs fitting snugly in my hand and were topped with the most mouth-watering chocolate kissed nipples. I swirled my tongue around her hardened nipples, going back and forth from one peak to the other. With one arm baring my weight, I slid another down to the apex of her legs. Like always, Zora was dripping wet and ready for me. The first time she allowed my hand to wonder to between her thighs I was taken off guard by how wet she was. Although she was the first girl I had ever had sex with, she wasn’t the first girl I’d had my fingers inside. None of the others had come close to being as wet for me as my Zo.
“Dang girl, you’re drowning my fingers.” I said with a proud smile against her lips. I slipped one long finger inside her tight opening and her hips lifted off the blanket to meet my thrust.
“Luke.” She moaned my name and I was so hard my erection was pushing into the hard wood floor. I worked my fingers inside her tight core just as slowly as I slid my tongue over her puckered nipples. I loved the way her body squirmed beneath me.
“Please…” She begged.
I pulled my fingers out of her warm embrace and lifted up to look in her eyes as I slid into her slowly. Her eyes rolled back as the head of my erection breached the first inch.
I hissed through my teeth at how great this felt. Sex with Zora was amazing, bare sex with Zora was heavenly.
“God, Darlin’, you feel fantastic.”
Slowly I pushed into her tightness until my balls were snug against her ass. Her slick walls wrapped around me refusing to let me go as I pulled out to the head and pushed back in. Our eyes never left each other’s as I kept a steady pace. I could get her to come a lot faster if I sped up, but tonight wasn’t about the carnal. Tonight was about my girl and me connecting. It was about showing the world that they couldn’t break us.
“I love you, Zora Henderson.” I whispered the words to her as my lower body made long slow strokes. The heat of the oil lamp we used for light and the friction of our bodies had a sheen of sweat coating our skin.
“Luke,” she said my name like a plea. “I love you so much.”
My mouth crushed hers in a brutal kiss. I feasted on her lips like it would be my last meal. I placed a hand on her hips to tilt her pelvis as my hips moved in between her thighs with deeper strokes. She cried out as I went deeper, the angle causing my pelvis bone to brush against her engorged clit. Her legs wrapped tighter around my waist and her nails scraped across my back. The pain is swallowed up by the pure pleasure of her tight pussy.
Her soft moans sounded like music to my ears. I loved the way she whimpered when I’m moving inside her and the way she quietly chanted my name like she’s speaking a prayer.
“Oh My!…. Oh My….! Luke!!” She screamed her release as her head fell back and her eyes closed. The tight clenching of her inner walls pulled my orgasm from me and I followed it submissively. I pulled out of her to release between her legs, apparently I wasn’t fast enough. That night we made our child. A child I never got to meet.
That was the memory that plagued me the night of the wreck. My mind was so caught in the past I barely noticed I had started to drift into the other lane until a horn stirred me out of my memories. I over compensated, jerking my wheel hard to the right and right into the side of the guard rail.
Many members of the press and my agent have tried to figure out what happened that night. I refuse to tell them it’s because I’m being haunted by the ghost memories of my first love.
“Cynthia said that I just needed to lay low for a while. Maybe be seen doing my charity work. She wants me to remind the people of all the good I do.” When my publicist first suggested this, I was against using my charities to save face. I didn’t do charities to look good, I was involved because they meant something to me. Although I’m not against her suggestion to lay low. I could use a vacation away from the cameras. We’re in the off season and training camp doesn’t start up for another two months. Had this fiasco happened during the season, it would have blown over by now with all the new topics to come up. But during off season, there is so little football to discuss, the media will pick at anything just to have a story.
“That’s a great idea.” Scott says, folding his hands across his chest. “You should go somewhere. Get off the radar for a while. By the time you show up for training camp I’m sure some other player will have been arrested for drunk driving or domestic violence. Marshawn is good for at least one drunk tweet that’s sure to cause a stir.”
I shake my head at the mention of my best friend and teammate, Marshawn Anderson. He’s notorious for his controversial rants on twitter.
“The short bastard has a point.” Lissa says, rolling her eyes at Scott. “You just need time for some new news to come around. Why don’t you come to Paris with me for the next two months while I prepare for the summer fashion expose?” I cringe and she laughs.
That’s what I admired most about Melissa. She was a lot like me with her laid-back personality. After Zora I was pretty much like a robot. I ate, worked out, studied, played football, and slept with girls. Lots of girls. After I went pro and thawed from that emotionless robotic state I started to search for something in females like what I shared with Zora. I realized early on that Zora was like that first high. In middle school I decided to get high with some of the local boys. I remember that first hit of marijuana was like free falling from an airplane. It was an exhilarating feeling. The second time I got high I didn’t come close to that feeling. Shortly after, I realized drugs weren’t for me. For a while I was chasing after women trying to get that feeling I got from being with Zora. It never came. I had to realize that I would never find that connection again. Melissa has been the closes thing to that happiness I can get.
Lissa is beautiful with her heart shaped face and honey brown eyes. Her long blonde hair is as soft as silk, and her long legs are a testament to God’s miraculous work. Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s an all-around good person. Funny, supportive, friendly (unless your name is Scott Rosen), and smart. She’s the first woman to hold my attention after Zora. She and I both came from nothing and refuse to return to our hometown anything less than successful. Her modeling career skyrocketed her name and now she’s starting to get into acting. She made a few cameos in television shows and movies. With this new major role, she is really about to take off. I couldn’t be happier for her.
“Ok.” She says with a toss of her hair. “How about you go home for a while. You’ve been mentioning going back to see your sister and your nephews. Now’s a good time.”
That was actually a great idea. I hadn’t seen my sister Holly in a while. It would do me good to go home for a visit.
“I guess I could.” I say, liking this idea.
“I’ll get a break in Paris in a few weeks and I can fly out to visit you.”
“This is great.” Scott adds, grabbing our attention. “I’ll set up a photo shoot with you doing some kind of charitable event. Feeding the homeless, or tutoring underprivileged kids, something like that. Then you lay low in your little Podunk town and by the time training camp starts up, Nike will have forgotten about this incident and we can hopefully move forward with closing this deal. All you have to do is keep your head down.”
That was simple. There’s nothing I could get into back home that would cause any trouble.
Chapter Three
I t took a few days before I could get back to South Carolina. I had to square a few things up. Since I’ve hardly taken any days since I started wo
rking at the diner, my boss had no problem with me taking a leave of absence for a family emergency.
Sean told me that my dad had suffered a massive heart attack after bible study the Wednesday he had called me. Four days later, he is still in the hospital recovering.
I stood outside my father’s room at Mercy Memorial hospital, listening to my family laugh and talk behind the door. My heart is racing in my chest as I build up the nerve to go inside.
“You know this means you have to lay off the fried foods, Dad.” My sister, Maya, says.
Her voice brings a smile to my face. She still sounds the same, that bossy serious tone. She would have made a great teacher, her voice has always sounded so definitive.
“That also means no more of Mama’s pound cakes.” Maya explains.
“What?” I hear my father’s weak voice. “That’s torture.”
The room fills with laughter and I find myself laughing on the other side of the door. Even before I left home this type of laughter had long been absent from our house. Just the thought of that time makes me reconsider going inside. What if showing up messes up their life again? What if they were happy when I left, and me coming back is more of a problem? I take a step away from the door when my phone goes off. I dig through my cross-body bag and pull out my phone. It is a text from Sean.
Sean: Went in yet?
I came straight from the bus station to the hospital. Sean offered to pick me up but I told him I’d be fine. Besides, I may need to make a speedy escape if things go wrong today.
Me: Not yet.
I reply back to his text.
Sean: Girl, get your tail in that room. They will be happy to see you.
Yeah, but how long will that last.
I stand in front of the hospital door once again readying myself to go in.
“It’s because of those pound cakes you’re in this place.” Another female voice says jokingly.
I don’t recognize the sound of it. I assume it’s Langston’s wife. Sean told me that he got married 5 years ago. I don’t usually let Sean tell me news about my family. I left them for a reason. It only slipped that Lang had gotten married.