It’s all he keeps saying, and I want to throw up. When he escapes to the bathroom, I turn on my parents.
“You said nothing! I know you don’t believe what they were saying, but you didn’t speak up!”
“We have to live here with them, work with them. How would it look if we said something?” my mother asks.
“It would look like you think what they were doing was wrong! You know that was wrong.”
“Yes,” my dad says.
“You raised me to be open-minded, and accept everyone!”
“People are scared, Beckham. If we told them they were wrong, they would treat us as they treated Sully. He can drive away, but we can’t.”
“What if you could? I can get you an apartment somewhere else!”
“This is our home. Good, or bad, this is it.”
My mom won’t look at me. “You need to leave. For our sakes, and for Sully’s.”
“She is right. We should leave,” Sully says, coming out of the bathroom. “We never should’ve come.”
Sully
When I walked out of the bathroom, and heard Beckham’s mother say we needed to leave, I knew she was right. We shouldn’t have ever been there. I shouldn’t have been there.
Beckham was naïve to think her people would accept me. No, not hers, but those she grew up with. I cannot connect those people to her, or group her with them, because she is not one of them. She stood up for me.
But, at what cost? She is now associated with a Muslim, a terrorist in their eyes. When the man commented about me wearing Dylan’s name, I could’ve mentioned my connection, but I didn’t. While she was naïve about how they’d react, so was I. For so many years, money sheltered me from that, so much so that I forgot what it was like to be so hated.
I forgot, and it’s now hurt more than me. There is no way to take back what was said in front of Beckham. No way to make her forget those words.
“I am so angry. I cannot believe they had the nerve to say those things! You should’ve let me punch them, at least the women! Why didn’t you let me punch them?”
“Violence would only leave to more violence, and as I kept telling you, it’s just not worth it.”
“And, as I told you, you are worth it.”
No, I’m not, and it’s best that she learns it now, while things are new, and not after we’ve declared our love for each other. I have no doubt what I feel for her is love, but I can never tell her that.
“I need to be alone,” I say, when we arrive back at the apartments.
“Don’t shut me out, Sully. I know today was bad, but we can get through this together.”
“I have to take the truck back.”
“No, you told Dylan you’d bring it back tomorrow.”
“I’d rather just do it now.”
“Please, Sully. Don’t do this.”
“I can walk you inside, if you’d like.”
She shakes her head. “What I’d like is for you to talk to me instead of running away.”
I don’t respond, so she opens her door, and jumps down. I wait until she’s in the elevator, and then I drive to my sister. She’s the only one who will understand, and I need her now.
I don’t remember the drive, but I make it there somehow. When she opens the door, I collapse into her arms, sobbing.
“Sully, what happened?”
“They said things, things like what the bullies said when we were younger,” I tell her as she leads me to the couch. “I forgot how ugly people can be, how much they hate us.”
“You’ve been insulated from it for a long time.”
“People look at me when I shop, or go out to eat, but the money kept me safe. It bought me friends, and safety.”
“Did they threaten you?”
“Not with what they said, but I felt it. I felt the hate. It was so strong, I thought it would choke me. It was like when we were little, and first moved here.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
I lie down, and place my head on her lap, because the tears keep coming. “I felt like a little boy again, wanting to be liked, but being mocked instead. I wanted to be part of Beckham’s life, but I can’t. Those are the people she grew up with, and they hate me.”
“What did she do?”
“She told them to shut up, and I had to stop her from punching some of them.”
“Good for her!”
“No, it’s not good. They will never accept her again if she’s attached to me.”
“You think she wants to be accepted by those people?”
“Her parents are worried about their friends no longer accepting them. How can I be with her if I can’t see her parents?”
“What did she say about that?”
“She was angry, but they wouldn’t listen to her. She’s so naïve. So privileged.”
“Privileged? She grew up very poor, Sully.”
“You know what I mean. She is white.”
“Yes, and you also know we may have tan skin, but we have lived a very privileged life. We’ve been largely protected from the racism, and bigotry so many of our people face. This one experience is just that, an experience. Ugly as it is, it’s our life.”
“I don’t want it to be my life. I don’t want to feel like that scared, little boy again. I don’t want to feel dirty like I did when they were saying the things they said. I can’t do it, I simply can’t.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Yeah, I do. I can live my life the way I used to, instead of this new way. I can go back to the way things were.”
“No, you can’t. You have a job, and a wonderful girlfriend. You can’t give that up for fake friends, and excess.”
“I have to, Nev. I can’t ask Beckham to give up her family, but I can never go back to that place again.”
There’s no choice. I have to do this, and I know exactly where to start.
Chapter 9
Beckham
I haven’t seen Sully since he dropped me off in the garage yesterday. He hasn’t answered my calls or texts, and he hasn’t been home. I know, because I’ve been sitting on the floor outside his apartment waiting for him. I slept here last night, and other than going into my place to use the bathroom, I haven’t left. I didn’t eat last night, or this morning, but I don’t feel hungry. I feel hurt, angry, and scared, and I just need to see him.
When the elevator dings, I jump up, because we’re the only two on this floor right now. As Nev walks into the hall, my shoulder sag in defeat.
“Where is he?”
“Nowhere he should be.”
“Is he coming back?”
Here? To me? I don’t ask those questions, because she knows what I mean.
“I don’t know.”
“I tried to fight them.”
“I know.”
“What can I do? What should I have done? I should’ve never taken him there.”
She grips my shoulders, and looks me in the eye. “You can’t beat yourself up, Beckham. It happened, and you did exactly what you needed to. You stood up for my brother, and no matter what happens, that is important.”
“He doesn’t think so.”
“Yes, he does. He won’t admit it, because he’s hurting right now, but when he comes to his senses, he will.”
“Is that a guess, or do you really believe it?”
“Both.”
“I’m not going to stop observing Ramadan,” I blurt out.
“Good.”
“What are you taking?”
She doesn’t want to answer. I can tell she wants to get away with not answering, but in the end, she does.
“Just the food. He’s already left the country.”
I stagger back, as if she’s physically punched me instead of just landing a mental blow. “I-I’ll leave you alone.”
“He will not cheat on you. No matter what pictures you see of him, or what you hear, know that.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Yo
u can. You know.”
I leave her still standing in the hall as I escape into my apartment. I don’t make it far, sliding down the door as I let the despair take over. She’s right—I know that whatever’s going on with Sully, he wouldn’t cheat on me. Which presents me with a new problem.
Will he call me to break up with me, or just text me. Do I block him, so he can’t do it that way? Or do I accept what I know is coming? Can I accept it, knowing he’ll be with other women once he delivers the final blow?
My finger hovers over the command to block him, but I don’t tap it. My heart is telling me he might need me. If he needs me, I want him to be able to reach me. I have to let myself be available to him. I love him, and I won’t abandon him, even after he left me.
I lift myself up from the floor, and stand on my balcony, watching the sun set. When it’s disappeared from the sky, I make myself an omelet, realizing I won’t be good for anyone if I pass out from starvation. After, I finally shower, and sleep.
When the alarm goes off in the morning, I eat again, get dressed, and head into work. It’s really early, but I don’t want to be here, alone in my apartment, dwelling on everything.
I’m not surprised to see Bev and Matt already in the office, but they’re surprised to see me. “Beckham, why are you here so early?” she asks.
“I have some stuff going on personally, and I didn’t want to be alone. Work will keep my mind off it all.”
“Come on in, and talk to me,” Matt says, instructing Bev to hold his calls.
“Do you want me to leave, and come back?”
“No. I’m going to go out on a limb, and guess that Sully is why you’re here.”
“He’s gone.”
“I know.”
Of course, he does. How could he not know? “Yeah.”
“Nev explained what happened, and I want you to know Reina has some friends of hers keeping an eye on your parents. No one will harm them for being associated with you and Sully.”
“Thanks. I don’t think anyone would do something to them; everyone is pretty much more bark than bite, but I appreciate it.”
“There is a lot of fear, and hate, in this country right now, and we didn’t want to take a chance.”
“I’m so angry at them for worrying more about what people will think than about what’s right.”
“It’s hard to choose a side, but it’s also important. I don’t know your parents, so I can’t speak for them, but I want you to know I’m proud of you. For choosing a side, and standing up for him.”
“Where else would I stand?”
“Don’t give up on him. Please.”
The great Matt Corrigan is begging me for something. Women all over the world would die to be in my place, but I’d rather be with Sully.
“Nev said the same thing.”
“There is so much you need to know about their family, but I can’t be the one to tell you. Just try to wait for him. He’s going to do some stupid things, but he knows how amazing you are, and how lucky he is to have you.”
“He’s not doing a good job of showing it. He didn’t even say goodbye.” And, I still haven’t decided whether to block him, or not.
“I know.”
“Thanks for talking to me, and I’ll think about everything you’ve said. I just can’t make any promises until I know what I’m dealing with. If he texts me to break up, it’ll be over, because I know that means he’s going to fuck around.”
“Jesus.”
“You know it’s true.”
He nods. “I don’t believe he’s stupid enough to do that.”
“Time will tell.”
“I’m holding his internship, so I’ll have to move things around a little.”
“We’ll manage.”
“I know you will. And Beckham, I want to make sure you know I’m always available to you if you need me. Reina, too. Sully is family, and so are you.”
“Thanks.”
I walk back out to my desk, and start going through the phone messages. By the time the other assistants and interns make it in, I’m halfway through my emails as well. Coming in early might be my best work idea yet. I know it’s not a permanent solution, because I can’t escape Sully here, but it’s kept me busy for a morning. I have a feeling that’s the way to go with all of this.
One morning. One afternoon. One evening. One day at a time. One week at a time, if it comes to that. Maybe one month, but I hope to God he’s either back by then, or he’s cut me loose. I know which option I’m hoping for, but I’m going to start preparing myself for either outcome. I need to survive this, no matter what happens.
Sully
I once again leave the text as a draft. The one telling Beckham I don’t want to be with her anymore. I need to send it, and take advantage of the women here who want a piece of me, but I can’t. That piece of me—every piece of me—belongs to her, and only her. I can fly across the world, and pretend it doesn’t, but I know it does.
“Sully, man, let’s party!”
I nod to my British friend, although I won’t drink tonight. I’m not a strict Muslim, and I drink, but never during Ramadan. He wouldn’t understand it, because none of the people I hang with are Muslim, but it doesn’t matter. They all indulge me, because I’m footing the bill. I don’t know how I’m going to foot this bill when the credit card statement comes, but I’ll worry about it next month. Right now, I just need to play this game.
The one where I stay in all day, pretending to sleep, and party all night. I’m getting almost no sleep, but the ruse is working. I know I’ve been photographed, and I’m waiting for Beckham to send her own break-up text, but it hasn’t happened. Only my sister texts, asking if I’m coming home to celebrate Eid with everyone. I don’t answer her, because I can’t go back, and face her. Face everyone I let down.
As we ride in the private car to the club, I recall all the things those people at the party said to me, just like I do every night. It’s the only way I can block Beckham from my head, and allow me to let other women sit on my lap, and kiss my cheek. That’s all I let them do, but it’s enough. If I really thought about it, it would be too much, but I don’t let myself think about anything other than the hate.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and a part of me hopes it’s her, finally setting me free, but it’s my sister again. “Call me, Sully. Please.”
I ignore her again, but when my phone rings, and it’s Dylan’s name on the screen, I know I have to answer. I love my future brother-in-law, and not just for the perks. He’s a good guy, and he sometimes gets me in ways my sister can’t. I wave my friend inside, and answer.
“Hey, Dylan.”
“I get it, Sully. Honestly, I do, but you’re killing your sister.”
“I’m fine. She should be seeing the photos.”
“The ones where your eyes are dead as random chicks put their lips on you? Those photos?”
“Must be the club lighting, because I’m having a great time.”
The words sound hollow even to me, and he doesn’t let me bullshit him. “Stop lying. To me, and to yourself. You know I understand about being bullied.”
“Yeah.”
He was an overweight kid, picked on, and nearly beaten to death, by the local bullies when his brothers and sister weren’t around. It’s how he met my father, and got pulled into his crazy plan to kidnap my sister. He thought he owed him his life, and he probably does, but he fell for Nev, and refused to hurt her. He put his life on the line for my sister, and she destroyed those who would have killed him. True love at its purest level.
“It sucks to be called names, and have shit said about you, but it’s how you react to it that defines your character. Running away from the woman who stood up for you, isn’t the way. You know that; I know you do.”
“I don’t want her to pity me,” I tell him, admitting the truth I haven’t said out loud until now.
“Pity? Come on, man. Do you think I defend Nev out of pity?”
; “No. Any fool could see you love her.”
“Exactly.”
“It’s different with me, and Beckham. It’s not love.”
“Isn’t it? You don’t love her?”
“I-I have to go.”
“Come home, Sully. For everyone’s sake, come home.”
“Bye.”
I hang up, and lean against the brick wall of the club for a few minutes. I have to compose myself, and put on my public face. I can’t listen to Dylan, because my heart’s telling me he’s right. I need to keep my head in control, though, because if he’s wrong, things would be even worse.
Pushing off the wall, I walk back inside, and choose the two lucky ladies who get to reside in my lap for the evening. One brunette, and one redhead—never a blonde. As they gush over me, and try to hold my attention, I force my mind to clear, because I can’t feel while I’m here. I need to fend off any straying hands or lips, and I can’t do that if I’m thinking about all I’ve lost.
Chapter 10
Beckham
I don’t want to be back here, at the scene of the crime, but my mother begged me to come. After a week of not hearing from Sully, my nerves are shot, and I’m so damn tired, I can barely stand up. Fighting with some assholes seems like as good a way to spend a few hours as any.
“Good to see you alone this time, Beckham,” Asshole Number One says.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Come try my potato salad.”
“Look at this cake, it’s your favorite.”
“How about a hot dog?”
On, and fucking on it goes, as I make my way to where my parents are sitting. I see remorse in some of their eyes, making me feel a little better about them, and what went down last weekend. I still won’t forgive them for what they did, but I’m glad to see some humanity surfacing.
My mother speaks first. “You look tired.”
“It’s what happens when you don’t sleep.”
“Things are rough with Sully?”
“I’d have to be in contact with him to know that.”
“You aren’t speaking to him?” my father asks.
“He hasn’t spoken to me since last Saturday, and he left the country, so no.”
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