by Ric Flair
We definitely enjoyed college life and balanced volleyball with schoolwork too.
One night, there was a big birthday party planned for one of the girls on the volleyball team. We were all supposed to go to her place. Some friends stopped at our place first. We just hung out. A few people’s cell phones rang, and within a couple of hours, there were close to seventy-five people all over our apartment. The girls on the team were furious. We never planned a party. We told them they should’ve brought everything to our place.
I implemented my strategy from the summer before: party, have fun, and smile. But when I got home, it was difficult to hold it together. I kept thinking, What is going to happen to my mom? Is Reider okay at school? Sometimes I’d get upset and just want to be by myself. This was the first time I’d suffered severe emotional pain. I don’t know what would’ve happened during that time if Brittany hadn’t been there for me. She was the only person I trusted.
Living with Brittany was a blast, but I was in for some hard lessons. I was overwhelmed by the fact that I didn’t know how to take care of myself: I had to do my own laundry, vacuum the living room, and clean my own bathroom. Every week! At home, we always had people who helped clean our house. I didn’t know what a checkbook was, let alone how to balance one. I never used a debit card or went to the bank. Money was left on the counter for me every day. I had two credit cards. The statements were paid every month.
My parents gave me everything I ever imagined. I wasn’t aware of just how much money was spent on us and the time and effort being able to do that required of them. I had it all. I took it for granted.
College independence was a whole new world. I needed to get on board. In some ways, Brittany raised me the first six months of my freshman year.3
I remember one day I was walking to class and someone asked me how to get to the student union building. I said to myself, Why are you asking me? Last weekend it took me ten minutes to figure out how to find the correct settings on the washer and dryer.
Looking back on those twelve months from the beginning of my senior year at Providence High School to my freshman year at App, I went from having everything—not a care in the world—to having nothing. The perfection of Piper Glen was a far cry from navigating my way around the Blue Ridge Mountains that surrounded Appalachian State’s campus. I first walked the campus with my parents. They were together. Everything seemed fine. What happened?
My dad and Tiffany came to Boone for a few home games. Megan and Reider visited too. Seeing them was so much fun. It reminded me of home. When I went back to Charlotte for holidays, whatever progress I’d made in coming to grips with my parents’ split was negated. The emotional wounds that showed signs of healing would be ripped open; someone I’d see would say something, or my mom would give me an update on the divorce proceedings. It was a cycle I felt I couldn’t escape.
As my freshman year came to an end, I made plans with Zahn to stay at App. I wanted to train for preseason and regular season volleyball and take summer classes. I saw my siblings at the end of May. My dad and Tiffany got married in Grand Cayman. Triple H was my dad’s best man. His wife, Stephanie, was there as were WWE Superstars like Big Show and Batista. As with every Fliehr family function, Brittany was there too.
Where Megan and David accepted the fact that our father was getting remarried, Reider and I made a different statement. We began drinking at the beginning of the afternoon like we were at a college keg party, not a wedding for our father on a beautiful Caribbean island. We went overboard with our form of civil disobedience, and it was obvious to the guests.4
After the wedding, Brittany and I went back to Boone. At this point, we moved into a house with a huge patio and two other roommates. My room was a giant studio off one corner of the house. My mom came and made it like a little apartment with all my favorite paintings and colors and some furniture from our house, including curtains and a new bedspread. She also added dishes, electronics, and everything I needed in the kitchen. It really felt like home.
My mom’s always been great with decorating, and she loves to do it. This time, she couldn’t wait to design my first college house. She came to visit a few times that summer before fall season started, and we had a blast with Brittany, the two other girls from the volleyball team, and some of the football players who we were friends with.
My mom enjoyed herself in Boone. I saw her smile more than I had in a long time.
By the beginning of sophomore year, I felt that I had created a life for myself in Boone; I made more friends, got comfortable with my schedule, and was more comfortable dealing with what was going on with my parents in Charlotte.
On the volleyball court, I saw the benefit of staying in Boone over the summer and training with Brittany. I was more confident, my level of play improved, and I started in more games. When we had a Saturday night and the next day off, Zahn and I took a few road trips to visit her old volleyball teammates at the University of Tennessee. At App State, the football team won the Division II national title the year before, so we went to a couple of games.
I remember finishing my last final of the fall semester. I couldn’t wait to get home to spend the holidays with Reider. One night while I was out in Charlotte, I went to a place where a lot of kids from our area hung out when they were home on break. I met a guy my brother knew. He transferred into Providence Day the year I left to play volleyball at Providence. I knew his friends and he knew mine, but we didn’t know each other. His name was Riki.
Riki went to Ole Miss his freshman year. He was one of the most highly recruited football players on the Providence Day team. He told me how he transferred to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and made their football team as a walk-on. He made me laugh with funny stories about what it was like rushing for a fraternity and how he was in Sigma Chi, one of the best-known fraternities in Chapel Hill. He was tall, had nice hair, looked great in a polo shirt, and was so handsome he looked like he’d walked off the set of a Brooks Brothers catalog shoot. And he was beyond charming.
For some reason, I was surprised he stayed around to speak with me. I had guys show that they were interested in me before, ask me for my phone number, or invite me out on a date, but this was different. From where I stood, guys like Riki only talked to sorority girls. All their friends and families knew each other. If you weren’t “in,” you were “out.” He was from a group that I had been around my whole life but never felt completely comfortable with. I liked nice clothes, but I didn’t have a relentless compulsion to go shopping all the time or only wear pieces from specific designers. Most of the sorority girls from south Charlotte were different in that way. Riki was certainly different from the friends I’d made over the last year in Boone.
We looked nice when we went to parties and went out, but it wasn’t wall-to-wall polo shirts and Lacoste dresses. Maybe that’s why I was attracted to him. He was everything I wasn’t, except for the fact that he was part of a social circle that I had spent most my life with up until the tenth grade.
When we said goodbye that night, he told me he would call me the next day. That afternoon, my cell phone rang. It was him. I was more surprised than anything else. I went into my room, and we just talked. I was happy that he called. Most times, guys would say they’d call and then they’d play games about actually calling.
Whether we ran errands, went to get something to eat, saw a movie, or just because, Riki and I spent every day of Christmas break together. Seeing him didn’t feel like a chore. Before I knew it, it was New Year’s Eve. We raised our glasses to the year that was and shared a kiss for the year that was to come. From where I stood, I liked how 2007 looked.
When the holidays were over, Riki drove back to Chapel Hill and I went back to Boone. We didn’t want to leave each other. We made plans based on our schedules and marked weekends when he’d come to see me at App and I’d drive to UNC.
I made it back to school and settled in for the new semester. I had to prepare for
my classes and spring volleyball workouts. I couldn’t wait to see Riki. We talked on the phone every night. The first weekend he came up, I met him at the door when he pulled up to our house.
I showed him around, introduced him to my roommates, and took him into town. Over that weekend, he met all my friends from school: classmates, volleyball team, and football team. Everyone had a great time meeting Riki and hanging out with him.
Just when it felt like we had a few minutes to relax, it was time to say goodbye. I told him I’d see him the following weekend in Chapel Hill.
12
LOST
I felt myself slip away more with each passing day.
February 2007
It was only a few days since Riki had left. I was talking in the kitchen with my roommates. We’d hang out there at the end of the night. They could tell how much I liked him, but it was something else to admit it. They were relentless. They wouldn’t let me off the hook. I felt like Ted Stroehmann in the interrogation scene in There’s Something About Mary. We all laughed and said how much fun we had over the weekend. I’d usually hear from him by then. I figured I’d text him before I went to bed. Around 11:00, I got a text from him: “My dad is dead.” I ran to my room. I took whatever clothes I could grab and stuffed them into my bags. Brittany looked at me. Before she said anything, I told her, “I have to go. I have to take care of him.”
I got in my car with my dog, Louis, and drove the two hours and fifteen minutes straight to Chapel Hill. When I got to Riki’s house, his frat brothers were standing around the living room. Riki sat on the floor in his bedroom. He was quiet most of the night. An hour after I got there, his fraternity brothers left. From what I gathered, Riki’s dad’s passing was unexpected. We were together barely a month, but we became close in that time. I didn’t want to overstep my bounds. I tried to console him but also give him space.
The next morning, we put our two dogs in the car and drove to Charlotte, a little more than a two-hour drive. I called my parents and let them know why I was coming home. They jumped to help Riki. They bought him and his brother tuxedos to wear at their father’s funeral. They sent food to his family’s home, made him trays of food, and were on call if they could do anything to help.
Those few days were awful. My heart broke for his family. Riki tried to figure out how to help his mom pick up the pieces. On Sunday, we drove the two hours northeast from Charlotte to Chapel Hill. I spent the night at his house. The next morning, I drove back to Boone in time for my first class. That week back, I texted him during the day and we talked at night. I tried to be there for him as best as I could even though I could not be with him in person.
The weeks following his dad’s funeral, Riki was very attached to me. I was happy to be there for him, and we’d take turns visiting one another at school. Soon after, things started to change. His moods went from one extreme to the other—fast. I thought it was understandable, given what happened, and I knew he was worried about his mom and siblings, but these erratic shifts intensified over time. I found myself taking on his moods: if he was happy, I was happy; if he was sad, I became sad. Even if we spoke on the phone—I was in Boone, and he was in Chapel Hill—I adopted his mood.
At school, I had to make sure I was current on all my assignments despite being less than interested. I knew midterms would be there before I knew it, and volleyball’s spring season was starting soon. Given how my sophomore season went, I had high expectations for my level of play in the spring, and 2007 was set to be my breakout year. I wanted to seize the opportunity. But mentally, I couldn’t become focused. I didn’t feel excited when I thought of playing volleyball in the spring. My thoughts revolved around taking care of Riki.
We talked every day. When I traveled for volleyball tournaments, Riki called me from the bars he was at with his friends. Everyone was having a great time and partied all night. There were always a few of his friends who wanted to celebrate that fact and scream into the phone during our conversations. I sat in the bed in my hotel room with the TV on mute and wondered what he was doing.
We’d text throughout the day. I’d call him on the phone to see how he was doing. If he called when I was in class, I left class to take his call. Even at home with the girls, I became distant. I thought Riki was in trouble and that I was the only one who could help him. I knew how much he loved his family, and in a way, I could understand what it was like being concerned for a parent and siblings.
* * *
Something was coming up back home that I looked forward to.
Birthdays continued to be a major event in the Fliehr family. Every year, even during this time of uncertainty with my family, was special. That year was a milestone—twenty-one! My parents organized a dinner at my favorite Thai restaurant in downtown Charlotte. Megan and David were there, along with some other relatives and some of my close friends. The life of the party, Reider, couldn’t make the trip; he was at school in New Jersey. My parents gave speeches at the table. Megan and David also spoke. My mom saved the best for last. She read a letter from Reider that he’d emailed her. Once I heard her say, “To my beautiful sister on her twenty-first birthday,” it was like someone turned on the waterworks.
Every word spoke to how close we were since childhood, how much he looked up to me, and how much he loved me. Reider wanted me to know that even though he couldn’t there, that I was so special to him, and he kept all our memories with him while he was away and couldn’t wait to make new ones when he came home. He was proud to be my brother. I was so proud to be his sister.
For that weekend, I felt like I was really home. I went back to Boone and got ready for finals week. I couldn’t believe that in a matter of days, I’d be done with my second year of college. I woke up one day and made a decision.
I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I didn’t ask anyone for their opinion. I just did it: I drove to my volleyball coach’s office, walked in, and quit. He just looked at me. I thanked him for having me on the team and told him I wasn’t coming back. I got back in my car and drove to the house.1
In a matter of seconds, I destroyed everything I ever worked for. All the years of sacrifice, hard work, training, attending camps—all of it, gone. It was like I took my scholarship letter, put it through a paper shredder, and walked away.
When I got home, I packed. I decided I was going to live with Riki in Chapel Hill. I told Zahn and the girls that I’d be back at some point to get my stuff and that I’d make sure to send my share for the rent.
I called my parents from the road. I got my dad on his cell phone right before he boarded a flight to Australia.2 He tried to talk me out of it. It didn’t matter what he said. My mind was made up. There was no speaking to me. The timing worked out for me since he couldn’t stay on the phone long because his flight was taking off.
I called my mom at home. She told me I was making a huge mistake. She asked me to come home. She asked me to speak with Brittany—I wasn’t doing any of that.
Then I thought of Brittany. I knew in a matter of minutes, I inflicted major damage to my best friend, and she didn’t see it coming. She didn’t deserve it. I’d call her when things settled down. I chose to ignore those thoughts, and I kept driving. In a couple of hours, I was going to have the life I always wanted.
The decision I made that day had consequences far beyond what I ever imagined.
I made it to Chapel Hill, and I moved in with Riki. I was ready to start the rest of my life. I learned very quickly that it was one thing to visit a house for a weekend, but was another to live there. The party scene was very different from what I was used to. It seemed like every night there were major parties that I’d have thought would’ve taken place during the weekend.
I noticed there was a change in the way we communicated. Riki’s mood swings worsened. What he said to me and how it was said also intensified. Why were we arguing? That was a question I should’ve asked myself. We saw each other on weekends, and I hadn’t even been living there that long
.
The incidents themselves became more frequent. I thought that the way he spoke to me was not what I was supposed to hear from someone who cared about me. I moved there. I didn’t expect a parade for doing that, but I thought that showed a certain commitment on my part and warranted a certain level of respect.
Riki said these arguments were my fault because of something I did. I responded by being extremely nonconfrontational. I did whatever he said to defuse the situation. If he said something was my fault, even if it wasn’t, I took responsibility and apologized. After being told so many times that I was stupid, I didn’t do something right, or something was my fault, I started to take it to heart. I started to believe that I did something to bring him to this point.3
A dark element started to consume the house. Riki was Jekyll and Hyde. If he was happy, things were great; he was the man of my dreams. If he was angry, everyone knew it, and it would be taken out on someone or something. There was a frightening rage behind his eyes when he became angry. For the first time in my life, I walked on eggshells. I became insecure and developed strong feelings of loneliness.
The partying at Chapel Hill continued. It was almost like it was part of the culture of the area. I soon realized that Riki developed a substance abuse problem, though he said I was overreacting. His mood swings were unbearable. The codependent tendencies I developed did not help what was a toxic situation. I was away from my family, I was away from my friends, and I was far away from the locker that now held someone else’s volleyball uniform. Boone was two hours away. It felt like it was on the other side of the earth.
I felt myself slipping away, and I couldn’t do anything to hold on. I started to lose myself.
