Read Crossing the Barrier Online

Authors: Martine Lewis

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sports, #Teen & Young Adult

Crossing the Barrier (12 page)

The band had just finished playing, and Malakai was turning toward the locker room when Wes approached him with Andrea, who was holding her black and yellow pom-poms against her chest.

“Malakai,” she called, a smile on her face. “Wanna come to the party at Stephanie’s?”

He was tired, and he wanted to go home. He especially didn’t want to spend more time with the cheerleader in case she read something into it, something that wasn’t there.

Then he remembered his father was in town, and he smiled. “I can’t. My father’s leaving tomorrow for business, and I wanted to talk to him about the game before he goes.”

Not quite the truth but not quite a lie either. He did want to spend some time with his father, especially since they had unfinished business to discuss.

“Dude, he’ll understand. We just won,” Wes protested.

As his only answer, Malakai shrugged.

“Oh, okay,” Andrea said, her smile faltering. “Maybe next time then.”

Malakai turned around and left for the locker room.

When he got home an hour later, the sergeant was there, sitting at the table, a few containers of Chinese food spread in front of him.

“I figured you’d be hungry,” he said.

“Yeah,” Malakai answered, making his way to the table with a smile. “I am.”

He grabbed a plate and began to pile it high with rice, beef broccoli, and orange chicken. He then poured himself some ice tea from the jug and began to eat.

“You know, I…I would have wanted you to consider a military career,” the sergeant said after a few moments of silence.

Malakai opened his mouth to protest, but his father raised a hand, effectively stopping him. “You know, my father was so proud when I joined the service. I would have been proud if you had too but, after seeing you tonight, I realized something: you’re a lot more like your mother than me,” he said with a chuckle. “Whatever you do, as long as you do something with yourself, I’ll be proud of you.”

Malakai stared at his father, his fork forgotten in his hand.

This was a first for him. Not only did his father express his open support, which in and of itself was rare, but he also spoke of his mother, which was unheard of.

“You think we’ll ever see her again?” Malakai was so starved to hear about her he asked before he could stop himself. He had lost count of how many times he had asked questions, especially at the beginning, but his father had never answered any of them.

“I don’t know, junior. I really don’t.”

Malakai clenched his teeth to prevent his mouth from dropping open. His father had confirmed his mother was still alive. In one sentence, Malakai had received more information about her than he had in seven years.

He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should dare ask more when the sergeant stood.

“I think I’m going to call it a night. I have an early start tomorrow.” He walked around the table and squeezed Malakai’s shoulder warmly. “I’m proud of you, son. That was a good game.”

Without adding a word, his father set his empty plate in the sink, then went to his bedroom, and closed the door behind him, leaving Malakai staring at the seat he had just vacated.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

LILY

Even though the
game had been a lot easier to manage than Lily had anticipated, she was still exhausted by the end of the evening.

“David did well, don’t you think?” Sandra asked as they were driving home.

“Yeah,” Lily answered with a grin. “He did great.”

“Malakai did well too.”

“Actually, let’s not talk about Malakai.” She had seen Andrea talking to him as he was leaving for the locker room, and it reminded her Malakai was taken.

“Lily, don’t take it like that. I’m telling you there’s an explanation.”

“Sandra, please don’t. I know you want to think this is a fairy tale and all, but it’s not. He’s with someone else, no matter how we want to look at it.”

In the passenger seat, Sandra crossed her arms with a sigh.

Now that the high of the game was fading away, Lily was quickly becoming dispirited. All she wanted to do was get home, take a shower, and go to bed. She wanted to stop thinking about Malakai. Just thinking of him, of seeing him with Andrea again, made her head hurt, and prickles came to her eyes.

God, she was tired.

Ten minutes later, Lily pulled into her driveway, and she and Sandra got out of the car. Lily grabbed her clarinet case in the backseat and closed the door.

“Tomorrow, wanna come over and study?” Sandra asked.

“Sure. What time?”

“Text me when you wake up, and we’ll go from there.”

“K. Night.”

When Lily walked into the house, she was immediately slammed by an array of unpleasant emotions: jealousy, envy, anger, anticipation, and more. As she brought her hand to her temple to massage the sudden pain, she discerned voices coming from the sitting room. Beatrice had company; she must have held her gathering, after all.

As quietly as she could without looking like she was sneaking in, Lily made her way toward the stairway in the hope she wouldn’t be noticed.

“Elizabeth,” Beatrice said, walking out of the sitting room. “You’re back.”

Lily sometimes wondered if Beatrice didn’t have a power of her own; she always knew when Lily was there, especially when she wanted to drop something unpleasant on her.

Again she sported this warm and welcoming smile that was anything but.

“Yes,” she said, plastering the same smile on her own face. How she hated these games.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Lily would have sighed had she been with anyone but Beatrice. Her mother should have known better. Lily had already told her she wanted nothing to do with meeting anyone else anymore.

“Not tonight. I’m tired, and I want to shower and go to bed,” she said, taking a step toward the stairway, hoping she would escape the fight that was coming.

“You ungrateful little–”

“What, Mother? Brat? Bitch? Why don’t you say it?” Lily said, turning around and losing any pretense at civility.

“Get in here, right now,” Beatrice ordered, pointing toward the sitting room.

“No,” Lily answered calmly, turning again toward the stairway.

She had put her foot on the first step when Beatrice grabbed her arm and squeezed, hard.

“Now, Elizabeth. I won’t tell you a third time.”

“Or what, Beatrice? What will you do?” she challenged, trying to shake her arm free.

As Beatrice held her, Lily saw her thoughts. She was furious Lily was impeding her plans because she wanted her to meet…another boy? She had a boy and his parents over for her to meet?

Again?

Then she saw it.

Beatrice wanted to marry Lily off as soon as possible, to get her out of her life so she could pretend she was single and without a child, and so she could get Lily’s inheritance—all of it.

While Lily had known Beatrice wanted her to marry a person of her mother’s choosing as if she were a medieval princess, which, in and of itself was ludicrous, she hadn’t understood her reasons until now, and she was shocked. Had someone said something so ridiculous to Lily about their parents she wouldn’t have believed it. After all, who tried to arrange their children’s marriage in this day and age, in Texas? But that was exactly what Beatrice wanted to do, and all that to get her inheritance, as unbelievable as it sounded. What puzzled Lily even more was how Beatrice expected marrying Lily off would give her the inheritance to begin with. Lily could not understand Beatrice believed such a ploy would work. The woman was definitely irrational.

Instead of answering, Beatrice began to drag her toward the sitting room. Almost losing her balance, Lily tried to fight her off.

“Let go!” she said. Lily shook her arm hard and finally got herself free. Quickly, she climbed the three first steps before her mother grabbed her again.

“Who do you want me to meet so badly?” she asked, turning around.

“Come and see,” Beatrice challenged, raising her chin in the air and crossing her arms.

“No.”

Lily turned around and walked up the stairs, happy she’d stood her ground.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

MALAKAI

When Malakai woke
up the next morning shortly after seven, he made his way to the living room, hoping his father was still there, but of course he was already gone.

Malakai walked to his father’s bedroom and looked inside. It was spotless, the bed crisply made, and no personal belongings were in sight except for a picture of Malakai in his football uniform from the previous year.

Malakai missed his father, and his visits were always too short. Granted, the sergeant wasn’t very warm, and Malakai couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually hugged him. It must have been before his mother disappeared.

His mother.

While now he knew she was alive, all the other questions he had asked over the past seven years remained unanswered.

“She’s gone, Malakai. That’s all there is to know,” the sergeant had said countless times.

Malakai remembered how quickly they had moved to the United States, then to his grandmother’s once his mother disappeared. He also remembered how warm his Gran had been and how often she told his father that a ten-year-old boy needed to have fun and spontaneity, and love and support.

But the sergeant had never been able to fill the void left by his mother.

Malakai had liked his grandmother’s house. It was so clustered with bookshelves full of books and magazines in neat piles and handmade decorations on every surface. He was allowed to run, scream, and play like a child.

Like everyone else in his life, she was gone now. She had died shortly after he turned fourteen. After that, the sergeant had announced he’d been transferred to Houston and moved them from northern Louisiana to the suburbs of the big city, where he said schools were better.

And now Malakai had to be responsible, when all he wanted was to be a teen. He wanted a curfew. He wanted someone to talk to, someone to guide him with some of the decisions he had to make, someone to get advice from. He didn’t want to have to buy groceries. He didn’t want to have to pay the bills. He didn’t want to have to be responsible.

But he had to be all those things.

Malakai went into the kitchen and took the orange juice from the refrigerator. He poured himself a glass and put away the container before drinking his juice. As he drank, he decided it was time to tackle his homework. After all, he had some time before the team meeting at nine.

He was putting his glass away in the dishwasher when his phone rang. With a frown, he went to his room and grabbed the device from his nightstand. He looked at the number and was surprised to see who it was.

“Wes?” he asked, putting the phone to his ear.

“No, Zoe.” She didn’t sound right. “Wes’s drunk, and I can’t get him in his car,” she slurped, annoyed.

“You guys still at Stephanie’s?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Can you come and pick him up? I mean, he’s just lying there, and I want to go home,” she whined.

Malakai cursed under his breath. He hoped Wes was not too far gone since it wouldn’t do to show up at a team meeting drunk. Coach would be mad if that were to happen.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said and hung up.

Malakai changed into sweats and a T-shirt and, ten minutes later, he pulled up to Stephanie’s house to retrieve the quarterback.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

MALAKAI

Malakai had been
right. Coach was furious when some of the players, including Wes, showed up at the meeting hungover and even drunk. As he walked through the meeting room, Coach screamed at the top of his lungs, standing close to the ones who had gone to the party, making them cringe every time he uttered a word.

To everyone’s surprise but Malakai’s, Coach suspended Wes and three other players and sent them home. Coach was so angry about the underage drinking he threatened to remove any offenders from the team if it ever happened again.

The
click, click, click
of Malakai tapping his coffee hotstopper on the desk in front of him was one of the few things that could be heard in the room at the end of the meeting. Malakai was so furious he wanted to be in front of a punching bag and pummel the thing until it broke at the seams.

Wes was the captain and was supposed to set the example. But now that Wes got himself suspended, the team voted Malakai interim captain.

Another thing Wes would be angry with him about.

It wasn’t Malakai’s fault that Wes had decided to get hammered during the season.

How could Wes be so irresponsible as to jeopardize the team for his own gratification? The answer was beyond Malakai. The only thing he knew was that the team didn’t need their star quarterback and three other senior players benched for a game, never mind that it wasn’t a district game.

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