Red Zone

by Shannon West

  My advisor called me in after lunch to talk about it.

  “Kingston, I had no idea your parents didn’t know about your decision to go into teaching. I’m afraid I upset your father when I told him about it.”

  I blew out a breath and squirmed a little in my chair. My father had been embarrassing me like that for years. “Yeah, I hadn’t talked to him about it yet…but it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Your father wants you to forget about registering for the new classes and about going to graduate school. He asked me to talk to you, but I told him it was your decision to make. I’m afraid he didn’t take that too well.”

  “I’ll bet. I’m sorry, sir. Sorry you had to deal with him, but I’ll handle it.” We talked a few more minutes and then I got out of there, burning with anger and embarrassment. My mother texted me a little while later when I was just leaving practice, and told me they were coming to see me and would like to meet for dinner. Damn, they hadn’t wasted any time. For my father to leave his business in the middle of the week and come all this way to see me didn’t bode well for the conversation we were about to have.

  She sent the name of a local steak place my dad liked and said they were already on the way, and they’d be there at six o’clock. I had showered and gotten dressed by that time, so I went to find Memphis to tell him the news.

  “Hang on a minute. I’ll text my dad. He wants to go over some films of last week’s game, but I can cancel and go with you,” he said, those little worry lines wrinkling his forehead.

  “Nah, it’ll be okay. My dad wants to yell and my mom wants to cry and they wouldn’t be able to do that if you were along.” Memphis frowned, and started looking all aggressive, like he wanted to be there to protect me, but I shook my head at him. “No, it’s cool. My father won’t yell too much in a public place. There won’t be a lot of ‘talking’ going on with my parents at any dinner. He’s already gone off like a Roman candle at my advisor. His face probably turned that weird shade of puce it always does whenever he gets really mad. Like when his business taxes come due. Or the neighbor kids take a shortcut across his lawn.”

  Or I came into any room he was in, and he had to act like he didn’t hate my guts, but I didn’t say that part out loud to Memphis. He was already acting all mad and protective, and I didn’t want to make things worse.

  “He’ll threaten to cut off my tuition and money for books, and I’ll tell him to knock himself out and that’ll be about it.”

  “You sound so cool about it, but I know you’re upset. You get that funny little twitch in your eyelid. Your dad wouldn’t really stop your tuition, would he?”

  “Of course, he would.” I put my hand on his chest and gave him a little smile. “But I’m fine, really. I knew they’d find out eventually. I’ll probably have to get a student loan, that’s all. My advisor will help, and plenty of other people in school have to get loans. I can do it too.”

  Memphis stepped up closer to me speaking softly so we wouldn’t be overheard. “I have some money my grandmother gave me. You can have that so you don’t have to get any loans.”

  I was a little stunned, so I got defensive. “I can take care of myself, you know.” He pushed me back against his locker and leaned over me, his hand on the locker above my head.

  “But you don’t have to, now do you?”

  I looked up at him and shook my head, a little smile playing around my lips. “No, Memphis.”

  “And you’ll come to me for help if you need to, won’t you?”

  I put my hand on his chest and looked up at him. “I will.”

  He gazed down into my eyes for a long time—so long I got uncomfortable before he nodded. “Okay then. Go and meet them, but you call me if you need me, okay? And come straight home afterward.”

  I snapped him off a little salute. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Don’t be a smartass. I have to go to my parents’ house tonight, but I’ll be home early in case you want to talk.” He glanced over his shoulder at the empty locker room behind us and then grazed my lips with his. “Don’t let them upset you, babe. Stand up to them. This is your life, not theirs. If your dad doesn’t want to pay your tuition, then okay, but he doesn’t get to dictate your choice of careers.”

  “I know.” I raised my face up to his for another kiss, and he obliged. The kiss went on until I thought I heard someone coming and pushed him gently away.

  “You know that’s not always gonna work, right? You pretending not to be with me? I don’t care who sees us kissing, and I don’t care who knows how I feel about you.”

  “I know, but you have to think about your future. And I’m not ready yet. Give me just a little more time, Memphis. When it comes out that we’re…you know…in a relationship, it’s going to cause a lot of publicity. The NFL will find out and your father…”

  “I don’t care what my father thinks. Not when it comes to you. As for the NFL, there have been gay players before.”

  “None that ever came out while they were active.”

  “Things are changing now. Let me worry about all that.” He leaned his forehead against mine for a moment and then took a step back. “Okay, go have your dinner with your folks. Maybe they’ll surprise you and be happy about the change.”

  I gave a short laugh. “That definitely would surprise me, all right. I’d better go. See you later.”

  He nodded and stepped aside, and I walked the length of the locker room, feeling his gaze on my back like a warm caress. I got to the door and looked back at him and he nodded at me and smiled. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, ready to face my nemesis, my father.

  ****

  My parents had made it there ahead of me and were sitting in a booth near the back. The minute I sat down, I knew this was going to be even worse than I had imagined. My father was drinking, and I didn’t think the mixed drink in front of him had been his first. Far from it. His eyes were bloodshot, and he glared at me as I sat down after kissing my mother on the cheek. Before I even got settled, he launched into it.

  “What the hell is this I hear about you deciding to waste more money on graduate school? And for a degree in Education! I thought you’d given up that ridiculous notion years ago.” He slammed his hand down on the table, causing an older couple who was sitting nearby to jump and the waitress who had been on her way to take our order to take a sudden detour.

  “Calm down, Dad, you’re embarrassing Mom.”

  “I don’t give a damn who I’m embarrassing,” he said, and took another slug of his drink. “You dare to talk to me about embarrassment, you little asshole. After the shit you’ve put this family through this past year? Getting thrown in jail and then losing your spot on the team? The only thing you’ve ever done in your life that I could be proud of was being quarterback for this team and now you’ve even blown that!”

  “Dad, lower your voice, or I’ll get up and leave. I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”

  He pointed a finger in my face. “You leave, and I’m done, Kingston! You won’t see another penny of my money!”

  “I don’t need your money, Dad,” I said, throwing down my napkin and standing up. “Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stay here and listen to any more of this. Don’t let him drive you home the way he is.” I bent down to kiss her cheek again. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Don’t you dare walk out of here, Kingston!” He jumped to his feet, practically spitting the words at me.

  I just kept going, knowing my face must be bright red since half the restaurant patrons were staring at us. I wondered if I should turn around and go back for my mother. That would really start a fight. I knew from bitter experience that she always took his side, though, no matter how outrageously he acted. She’d never worked outside our home, and maybe she was scared of striking out on her own if she ever left him. To be honest, I’d never seen any evidence of physical abuse, so maybe they understood each other. God knew, she’d never been on my side in any fa
mily argument. In the years after my brother died, she’d drifted around the house like a sad wraith, and since that day she’d really only been a pale copy of the woman she used to be. She never really had much to say about anything anymore.

  I was opening my car door when I heard my father yelling my name behind me. I sighed and waited, leaning back against my car while he charged across the parking lot toward me.

  “Don’t think you’ll be taking off in the car I bought!” he shouted. “If you insist on going through with this stupid scheme of yours to waste your life and the good education I paid for, then I’m cutting you off! You can sleep in the streets for all I care!”

  I pulled the keys out of my pocket and dropped them on the ground at his feet. “Take the damn car, Dad. And keep your money too. I’ve decided to be a teacher, not some kind of criminal. What the hell? Teaching is a noble profession!”

  “One that doesn’t pay diddly squat! You just can’t help it, can you? You can’t help being a disappointing failure! You’ve always been one and you’ll always be one, won’t you? We’re done, boy! Done!”

  I started to walk away. “Whatever you say, Dad. Whatever you say.”

  He hauled me back and pushed me against the car. “I said, don’t you walk out on me, boy!”

  “Haven’t you said enough?”

  “Not by a damn long shot! You’re going to go back to that advisor and tell him you’ve changed your mind! You have a good job waiting for you at my firm when you graduate. And if you decide you just have to go back to school, then you’ll get your MBA. Don’t you have any idea how much money you could make?”

  “It’s not about the money! It’s about doing something worthwhile and about being happy!”

  “I wouldn’t know about happiness—all of mine died when your brother did!”

  I shook my head, absorbing the shot to the heart. He smiled then, an ugly, shark’s smile that let me know he smelled blood in the water and he was going in for the kill. “I wish every day of my life that it would have been you who’d died and not him.”

  I staggered back from him, not believing he’d finally come out and said what I’d suspected all along. I’d always known he hated me, but this was a whole new level I’d honestly never even imagined. I turned then and just ran. Out of that parking lot and out of his life. I could hear him yelling my name behind me, but I just kept going, too hurt by what he’d said to turn around or slow down. I ran for about a half a mile, dodging down a side road and through a parking lot, in case he thought about coming after me. When I finally slowed down, I ducked into a fast food restaurant and went in their bathroom to splash cold water in my face and try to calm down and catch my breath. After a few minutes, I pulled out my phone and called for an Uber, then went outside to wait for it.

  I didn’t have too long to wait until it arrived, and I asked the driver to take me home, hoping like hell that Memphis would be there. He wasn’t, but I went inside anyway and plopped down on the big leather sofa in our living area, feeling pretty numb. And for the first time in a long while, I let myself think about my brother, Eric.

  Eric had been two years older, and he’d really had it all. Even as a kid, he was handsome, smart and great at every sport he ever tried. He and my dad were tight, and my dad thought the sun rose and set on him. I already knew he was the favorite even when we were that young. He’d been eleven years old the summer it happened, and I was nine. He had found where my father kept his gun and he’d asked me if I wanted to play with it and maybe sneak it out to do some target practice.

  “Dad will kill us,” I’d said.

  “Dad will never find out,” he’d replied. “Come on, don’t be so scared. Maybe we can take it out to the woods behind the house and shoot at some stuff. I know where his bullets are too.”

  But he was right—I was scared and told him no. I tried to talk him out of it, but three days later, he shot himself in my father’s office, when he was trying to load the gun and it went off. He lived long enough to make it to the hospital, but died later that night. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to our family and I don’t think any of us had ever gotten over it. I know I hadn’t, and I never talked about my brother. Not ever. Even Memphis didn’t know he’d existed.

  I still mourned my brother, but to hear him say what I’d always suspected—that my parents, or my father, anyway, not only mourned him, but wished I had been the one to die instead of Eric—that was damned devastating.

  I got up off the sofa and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, but when I got the glass out of the cabinet, it slipped out of my hand and crashed to the floor. I went to get the dustpan and a broom to sweep it up, and then I stopped, looking down at the broken shards of glass on the tile floor. I picked up the biggest piece and just stared at it for a few seconds. And for those few seconds, I wondered if I should take it and hide it in my room for later—just in case.

  The idea stunned me for a moment and I sank onto a bar stool and thought about cutting myself to take away the bad memories. To help me focus on anything else except the words my father had just said to me.

  It would be so easy. I could roll up my sleeve and make the cuts right now. And why not? My father certainly wouldn’t care. He’d made it more than obvious he didn’t care what happened to me anymore. As for my mother, she’d checked out about the same time Eric had. I had never felt safe or valued growing up, so why did it matter now? What was the point of it all, anyway? Why did I have to struggle so hard when I had the answer in my hand?

  I lifted the glass shard to my arm and pressed in just the tip. A thin trickle of blood seeped down my arm. It was then that I got a clear image in my head of Memphis’s face and what it would look like if he was watching me do this. His beautiful, scowling, disapproving, full-of-himself, Dom face …and for the first time that afternoon, a little smile played around my lips.

  Memphis would kick my ass, and that was very much the point. Memphis had shown me almost from the first day in our suite that no matter what had happened before, no matter what I’d done to hurt myself or other people, no matter how little I believed in myself, he believed in me. He believed I could do amazing things in my life, and he’d managed to convince me that I could too. He was trying to help me find freedom from every destructive pattern I had. He had loved me, encouraged me, cared for me, and kept me safe, there was no way I could repay him like this. His love actually made me feel worthy of the good things in life, when before I met him, I’d felt worthy of absolutely nothing.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Memphis was suddenly standing in the kitchen doorway, looking at me disbelievingly. So focused on the glass in my hand, I hadn’t heard him come in. It startled me so badly, my hand slipped and the glass bit down into my arm, leaving a long bloody streak.

  He charged across the room and was beside me in seconds, grabbing my wrist and jerking it up and away from my arm, squeezing so hard I dropped the piece of glass from nerveless fingers.

  “What are you doing?” he yelled at me again, and I wrenched my wrist away from him and stumbled to my feet to face him.

  “It’s not what you think!”

  “Oh, it’s not? Because I think you were cutting again and shitting on all the promises you made to me and to yourself!”

  “No, you don’t understand!”

  “Save it, Kingston!” He bent down and picked up the bloody shard of glass and threw it into the sink so hard it bounced right back out at him and struck him in the neck. He winced and clapped a hand over the cut and then whirled back at me. To see if I was laughing at him, I guess, but I was finding nothing funny about any of this.

  “Let me see it,” I said and took a step toward him.

  “No! Leave it alone!” he jerked away from my outstretched hand and turned his back on me. “I can’t believe you were cutting again. Damn it! What the hell did your parents say to you to make you do this?”

  “I’m trying to tell you, I wasn’t cutting!”

&
nbsp; “Stop lying to me! Look at your arm!”

  I looked down at the deep cut on my arm that was oozing blood and back up at him. I couldn’t help blushing.

  “I’ve never been so disappointed in someone in my life. We had a deal, Kingston, and I thought you meant it when you said you’d stop. That you’d come to me if you had any problems and we’d handle it together. Just this afternoon, you promised me you’d come to me. How can I ever trust you again after this? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

  And the hits just kept coming. I turned my back on him, shaking my head. Why wouldn’t he give me a chance to explain? To tell him I wasn’t going to cut myself?

  But that was a lie, wasn’t it? I had been thinking about it just before he came in.

  I had picked up that shard of glass off the floor and really considered it. And wasn’t that almost as bad as actually doing the deed? I’d hesitated when I thought about the look on Memphis’s face—the one I was seeing right now. But would I have gone ahead and cut myself if he hadn’t come in? I really didn’t think I would have, but how did I truly know? I was damaged goods and he deserved so much better than a fuck-up like me. A loser. A failure. My dad had been right about me. Maybe I should carve the words right on my forehead for the world to see, to act as a warning for anybody who wanted to get involved with me. Maybe my father was right after all.

  Memphis was still yelling at me, but he was moving back down the hall to get something to put on the cut on his neck that was still bleeding pretty badly. “Stay there until I get back, damn it! This isn’t over yet. Not by a longshot.”

  That was where he was wrong.