Chapter 14 River
Chapter Fourteen
RIVER
“You have got to stop sulking.”
I struck my head against the wall, overwhelmed by despair. “I can’t.”
Carson sighed. “It’s been two weeks, man. You need to focus on the game.”
He had been trying to get me pumped all day about our first true game of the season. It was starting in less than two hours, and instead of feeling excitement like everyone else around me, I was wallowing in self-pity.
I hadn’t been my normal upbeat and cheery self in a while—Carson would argue that I was neither of those things ever, but that was beside the point. I was lacking my usual motivation and spunk, and it wasn’t just taking a toll on me, but also those around me.
“Mama J is in the crowd, remember?” He slapped my shoulder encouragingly. “She’s made it this time, so don’t worry so much about Alex.”
Even knowing my mom was in the crowd did not brighten my mood, and that was saying something.
I had filled in Carson on some of the situation with my ex-best friend and I.
Not everything—just the part about me being too cowardly to tell him the truth and him cutting me off for it.
He found it ridiculous that I wouldn’t tell him for the sake of our relationship, but he didn’t get it. No one did.
My sour mood started the second I walked out of Alex’s apartment. I really let myself leave him all because I was too afraid to tell the truth. He was right at my fingertips, and I let him slip away. Again.
Was this how I made him feel when I ghosted him as a kid?
A buff arm wrapped around Carson’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Our teammate, Vernell, wore a wide, toothy grin, his excitement for the first game of the season clear. When he caught wind of my brooding, it faded.
My teammate raised a critical eyebrow. “River, where is your enthusiasm? You should be the most hyped of all of us.”
“I’m pumped,” I said lamely.
“Damn, did a girl break up with you or something?”
“Something like that,” Carson mumbled.
“Let me tell you something, man. A girl is not more important than how you play on this court today,” Vernell spoke as if it were a fact. “Turn those powerful feelings into skill on the court, yeah?”
Unbeknownst to my teammate, Alex was not a girl, and he was most certainly more important than the first game of the season.
Those were the last words of encouragement he gave to me before he rejoined the rest of our team in their pregame celebration. I tugged on the hem of my jersey, peering down at the big number nine displayed across my chest. The number that represented me and everything I stood for.
The way I was feeling, I wanted to rip the jersey off and never pick it up again.
“Maybe Alex will show, despite everything,” Carson said hopefully, but we both knew that was wishful thinking. After that, he joined the rest of the team, bonding in the locker room. I forced myself to join him, because anything was better than wallowing in self pity.
The rest of the time passed in a blur, and the game was finally beginning. We were going up against a team from Tennessee, and according to everyone, we had this win in the bag. Considering how well we did in the scrimmage, I wasn’t too worried.
Coach gave us his typical intimidating speech, filled with the usual threats heard from coaches before the season’s initial game.
He directed his comments to the group, yet his intense stare felt personal, as though he could read my thoughts.
Coach’s intuition, I guessed. Not only was he saying, “Wipe the floor with them like I know you can,” he was also warning, “Don’t fuck this up for us. ”
As the game was starting, I ran onto the court with the starting lineup, though my attention was elsewhere.
My eyes frantically scanned the bleachers for the third time that evening as I let my feet guide me to my position.
Yes, a third time. I had been looking for Alex since the stadium opened to the public and had no luck.
The lack of brown hair and freckles in the audience darkened my mood. I hadn’t spoken to him in over a week, and he had every right to tell me to fuck off, yet I still believed he would show because Alex always showed.
Not this time.
Lost in thought about the boy who was always on my mind, I didn’t hear the whistle or see the ball drop.
I could feel the death stares from my coach and teammates, but I shrugged them off and zoned in on the opponent before me.
He loomed above me, his wide shoulders and arms spread, with a menacing scowl, as if he was ready to devour me.
Every pivot I made, he mimicked it. When I thought I’d got rid of him, he appeared. The fucker was my shadow.
It didn’t help that I wasn’t on my A-game. Normally, I would have found his weak spot and used it to score. In this game, I couldn’t get away from him long enough to even see the net.
My only saving grace was the agility and like-mindedness of my teammates. They compensated for my lousy playing, and while I could sense their irritation, they didn’t shit on me for it.
Coach swapped me out of the game eventually, making me feel like a child with his disappointed parent.
He didn’t chew me out, but his side-eye was so lethal I had to turn my back to him.
I scanned the crowd again as I sipped my water.
Rather than finding him, my mother’s warm smile and loving eyes greeted me for the first time.
I waved back, her presence the only flare of happiness I had felt all evening.
Carson, playing like the MVP he was, clinched the victory by scoring the final point just before time ran out. Deep shouts and surging male hormones filled the locker room. You’d think we’d just made it to the NBA finals, judging by the way the freshmen were celebrating and pounding on the lockers.
After we won the game, Coach expressed his pride, congratulated us, and suggested we continue the tradition of eating pizza. My eager teammates hustled out of the room behind Coach, shouting “Pizza!” in unison. Pizza was the last thing I wanted.
While the team continued their chanting, I left to move through the overcrowded bleachers to find my mom.
From the left side, two rows down from the top, I saw my mother waving, her short, curly puff bobbing as her beautiful smile shone.
I waved back, quickly noticing her red dress with my jersey number and face plastered on it. Ah, some things will never change.
The sight of my grinning friend, who I hadn’t seen leave the locker room, wiped the smile off my face.
“River!” Mom’s arms extended wide as she welcomed me into an embrace. “My star boy.”
Pulling back from the hug, I rubbed my neck sheepishly. “Momma…”
Mom had been calling me her star boy since I was little, and it never failed to embarrass me.
“Sorry.” She rubbed my shoulder apologetically. “I know you don’t like that name, but I can’t help it.”
“I wish someone would call me their star boy,” Carson pouted.
Her gaze shifted to Carson, a look of love welling up in her eyes. “You’re my star boy too, Car.”
He shot me a smirk, almost boasting of the affection he was receiving like a youngest child. My mom was just as much Carson’s as she was mine, and he loved to remind me of it.
Her comforting hand rubbed the backs of our heads. “Let’s get you boys some food.”
We went with my mother to her car, and then she drove us to a local diner. Pizza was her suggestion, but we had to tell her it was the one thing we were trying to avoid since our teammates had an obsession with it.
The diner had a classic American vibe with red booths, milkshakes, a broken light, and everything else that made it what it was, and I knew I was about to get a damn good burger.
I was hungrier than I realized, and my mouth watered as we placed our order with the waitress.
Being away from Alex made me mimic his behavior, like his habit of putting other things ahead of eating three meals a day. I liked to think it was my body’s absurd method of staying connected to him when we were distant.
Was he taking care of himself, or was he still stressed out? Could he have had another seizure, one that I wasn’t around to help? Fuck, he probably should have gone to the doctor after the first.
Or maybe all his stresses are gone because I’m finally staying away.
A warm hand on top of mine pulled me from my spiral. Mom rubbed her thumb on the back of my hand, a shaky smile painting her lips. It was the kind she wore when she had bad news.
“I need to talk to you boys about something,” she said softly.
I slowly retracted my hand from my mom’s touch. An abrupt, heavy feeling settled in the air, which was sudden since Mom hadn’t appeared to have bad news until now.
Carson raised a hand. “Is it about River’s sulking? Believe me, I tried to fix it, but he’s hopeless when he’s upset.”
My brows narrowed, and Carson winced when my foot collided with his shin underneath the table. He was like the annoying tattletale brother I never asked for. If I ever went down for a crime, I knew who would rat me out for a ten-piece nugget and a large fry.
Mom’s eyes softened. “Why are you upset?”
“It’s nothing.”
“River,” she drawled.
Why did I even bother? Lying to my mom never worked.
I looked up at the ceiling as my finger tapped the table repeatedly. “I ran into an old friend, but they’re not speaking to me because I won’t tell the truth.”
Mom was thinking hard, trying to place who I was talking about. “Why won’t you tell the truth?”
I sighed. Because what if it didn’t make a difference? If I told Alex the truth now, after all the mental gymnastics I put him through, would it be too late?
What if the truth wasn’t good enough?
“I don’t know if it will make a difference. I don’t even know if I’m even good for them.”
With a huff, my mother leaned back, her eyes meeting mine. “You’re a good person, River. You’re letting your fears keep you back, but you have no idea how they will respond to the truth. Don’t let it stop you. You miss all of the opportunities you don’t take.”
Carson bumped shoulders with my mom. “That’s what I told him.”
“You’re wise.” She ruffled his blonde hair before turning back to me. “You’re so much like your father, River.”
Glancing over the menu, I said, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not at all.” Mom shifted in her seat, and once again, the atmosphere took a dark turn. She drew a shaky breath. “Speaking of your dad, I saw him yesterday.”
“Improvements?” Carson asked with a hopeful glint.
Mom grimaced. “No. The doctors are still saying the same.”
Warmth spread from my chest and into my neck. Who turned on the damn heater in here?
She swallowed hard, as though she were trying to repress her words. The chatter in the diner wasn’t noisy enough to drown out the discomfort between us. Maybe I should’ve gone for pizza with my teammates rather than dinner with Mom.
“They’ve started talking to me about next steps,” she whispered. “About what he wanted. About quality of life.”
Carson and I exchanged a worried, knowing glance, and I didn’t pull my eyes off him. I couldn’t look at my mom as she spoke about her comatose husband, especially not when it was my fault he was like this.
Now she was about to share the few words I prayed each night not to hear. The few words that would turn my worst nightmares into reality, rather than ending them.
“I’m not deciding now, but I need you to know we’re thinking about it.” She paused, tears brimming in her eyes as she took each of our hands. “We might have to take him off life support.”
The words hung in the air, suffocating me as they repeated in my mind. I didn’t move a muscle as the waitress placed our food before us. The hamburger didn’t look or sound appetizing anymore with the heaviness in my chest.
I was about to lose my dad. I’d never forgive myself if I lost Alex, too.