Freeing Carter(16)
Author: Nyrae Dawn

"I hope you know what you’re doing, Coach." Without another word, she walks out.

Chapter Eleven

It’s crazy how easy it is to avoid someone you live with. I guess it helps when they’re probably avoiding you, too. She knows that I know. Not about the bottle at work, but from our phone call. About the way she spent her day. I’m pretty sure she knows something about Grandpa, too. She had to have seen the missed calls, which means she would have called them back. They would have told her I went down there.

But still, nothing. No knock on my bedroom door. No promises that it won’t happen again or vows that I don’t have to work in the store. No Chinese food for dinner. It all makes me even angrier. Maybe it’s cruel of me to want her to feel bad for what she’s done and to try to make it up to me. I deserve at least that, right? Is a little remorse too much to ask?

I can’t stop seeing that stupid bottle. In my head, I’m repeating the words about it being mine over and over again, when, really, I want everyone to know it’s hers and that she’s letting it take her over in a way she never did before. I want everyone to know I’m trapped in the middle, the worm in the bottom of a Tequila bottle, wrong on all sides of me. I just want to do the right thing, but it’s always out of reach.

Without my usual bowl of cereal, I wait for her in the morning. It was a last minute decision. The coward inside me wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, but then I saw one of Sara’s stupid Barney dolls and remembered I’m her brother and it’s my job to look out for her.

Man up, I keep telling myself, and now it’s time to do it.

"Oh. Carter, you startled me," she says as she walks into the kitchen. I don’t reply. She starts making her coffee and I just stand there, arms crossed, picturing the bottle and her voice and how she looked laying in her bed.

I want to grab her and shake her and tell her I’m tired of it. That I don’t want to do it anymore, but I can’t.

Holding her cup, she leans against the counter and stares at me. She knows I’m upset and I almost revel in it. Mom bites her lip. Takes a drink. Shifts the way she leans from one side to another before she finally talks. "About yesterday…I just want you to know I had a bad day. I’m sorry,. I won’t—"

"Do what you want, but not when Sara is here." A bad day? A bad f**king day? How many bad days have I had lately? No, how many has she given me and I still deal with it. I don’t turn to a bottle. I can’t listen to it. Can’t hear any promises because even though I know better than to believe them, I want them to be true. "Sara comes home today. She doesn’t deserve it."

Mom nods. Water pools in her eyes and her hand starts to shake. Before she can make me feel guilty, I walk away. As soon as I open the front door, Sara bursts in.

"Carter! Carter!" But she doesn’t take the time to stop to talk to me. She’s too busy. Too much to do, so she keep running down the hall and to the kitchen.

With the door closed behind me, I cut off Bill before he can start. I know what’s coming next anyway, considering it’s been a few weeks since the last time he shoved me further in the middle of Mom’s drama. "Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. I’d never let anything happen to Sara."

"Carter," Bill calls , but I keep walking.

"I have to go, Bill. I said nothing’s wrong. I’m just having a bad day." But I’m sober, regardless.

In my truck, I can’t help but laugh at my lies. Nothing is fine. There is something to worry about. But the one truth I always know is nothing will happen to Sara. I will always make sure of that. Somehow I’ll make everything is fine. I won’t let there be anything to worry about.

***

Monday, I’m able to avoid Kira pretty well. I look around for Travis, but he’s not here. I text him and he replies that he’s skipping, which totally isn’t cool. I’d rather be anywhere but here. Still, he’s taking a big risk, one I’m kind of surprised about because if you get caught skipping, you can’t play in the next game.

Unfortunately, I can’t avoid Mrs. Z who wants to know how I’m doing on the-assignment-that-shall-not-be-named to which I pretend I’m working hard on it. The rest of the week it’s not as easy. Kira keeps talking to me in class, which is cool and I want to talk to her, but I keep seeing her dark hand wrapped around that damn bottle. I can’t stop wondering if she thinks I’m a drunk. Why else would someone stuff a bottle in a hiding place like that?

Mom’s easier to avoid, because she’s doing the same. I catch her looking at me, which makes me feel like shit, so I try not to look at her at all. But it’s all I think about. Her, Sara, Bill, even Mel because I keep getting death stares from her all week at school. All of it takes up the space in my head, pushing basketball and school work out of the way.

I have to pay attention to Mom to make sure she will be okay, for Sara’s sake.

Friday rolls around and I’m not sure how it got here so fast, but it’s a game day, so I’m pumped. Practice is great, but there’s nothing like a game to make everything else go away. Somehow we managed to score two Friday home games in a row.

"You have plans after the game?" Travis asks as we’re tying our shoes in the locker room. "It’s like, I don’t even see you anymore." He fakes a cry. "Like, we’re not boys anymore or something. I miss you, man!" Travis moves in like he’s going to hug me. Laughing, I push him back.

"You’re such an idiot."

"Is it someone else? Tell me you haven’t found someone else!" He’s laughing so hard he hardly gets the words out. It feels good to laugh. I haven’t really felt like it all week. When we settle down enough to talk, he speaks again. "Seriously though…we’re both single now. Let’s go out. Have fun. Be wild. Meet girls. Kiss girls. You know, like back in the day."

And I need it, but the thing is, I’m not really in the mood. Which makes me all sorts of lame because what guy in his right mind doesn’t want to go out on a Friday night? "Let me talk to Mom after the game. Make sure…" everything is okay. "She doesn’t mind."

"Sounds good. Let’s go kick some ass."

***

It’s halftime and the wrong team is kicking ass. It’s killing me because we don’t lose. Not like this, and by the way everyone on the team is looking at me, I know they think it’s my fault. I’m playing like crap. Can’t get my head in the game. Mom always comes to my home games and she’s not here. My eyes won’t stop scanning the crowd for her and Twig, willing them to be here. Needing them to be here so I can stop wondering if something’s wrong. Stop seeing her passed out in her bed, this time with Sara there and me losing a game instead of protecting her.

"Shaw? You okay tonight?" Coach yells at me during the timeout.

No…No, I’m not. "Yeah, I’m good." Stay or go? What will happen if I walk out of the game? I’ll lose basketball, that’s for sure. The selfish part of me is too scared to take that risk.

"Take a little break," Coach tells me. "Michaels, go in for Shaw."

Everything in me wants to fight the decision. This is my team. My game, and I’m never pulled out because I can’t get it done, but right now, I can’t.

I fall into the chair, burying my face in my hands. My leg is bouncing up and down like the rabbit in the deer movie Sara watches. I don’t even notice the last minutes of the half tick by until I hear the loud buzz letting me know it’s halftime. I’m the first one on my feet, needing to get to the locker room where my phone is.

"Carter! Carter!"

Sara’s voice makes all the tightness evaporate out of my body. It’s almost too much, my whole body going limp in relief. I turn to see her walking up to me with Kira. Not Mom. Just Kira and Sara. Without a thought I jog over to them, Sara’s on her way toward me too.

"Carter!" she says again.

"Hey, Twig. About time you got here." Does my voice sound calm? I need it to sound calm, even though, inside, I’m freaking the hell out.

She wraps her arms around my waist and I look at Kira, pleading with her to answer the questions I can’t say out loud. Is she okay? Why isn’t she here?

"The store was crazy busy. Your mom worried about me staying without her so she talked to Lana, and let me come with Sara."

Sara steps back. "Kira can drive like you!" The rest of her words are a jumble of excitement that I don’t understand.

"Not as good though, I’m sure." I wink at Kira, needing to joke so I can calm myself.

"Shaw! Stop flirting and get into the locker room!" Coach yells.

I look at him, then back at the girls. "I gotta go. You guys are good?"

"Carter! Carter!" Sara cheers for me, her ponytails flopping around.

"I gotta go," I say again, and start running toward the hall.

"Coach!" I turn back to Kira.

"Don’t worry. Everything’s good." She looks at me for a few seconds, her eyes trying to tell me something I’m not sure I understand. "I promise."

I let out a deep breath, somehow believing her words. Even though she doesn’t know everything, she would know if something’s wrong.

When Kira turns toward the stands, I realize for the first time what she’s wearing. A basketball jersey with a number 1 on it. Coach Shaw in big letters on the back.

I can’t help it, I smile. Knowing when we go back out for the third quarter, I’m really going to kick some ass, even if it’s only to do her jersey proud.

***

"So, this is just a wild guess here, but I’m figuring, after seeing Kira’s jersey, your goofy-ass smile, and the way you turned into super point guard in the second half, draining threes like old school Reggie Miller that: A) You and Kira have something going on and B) You’re going out tonight, but not with me." Travis pulls a clean shirt over his head. "Not that I blame you. Actually, I’m little jealous, but that’s beside the point." He smirks.

"We’re not together. I’ve just got a lot of stuff going on right now and…She’s cool."

Travis looks at me funny for a second. "Yeah. I hear ya. Shit going on and all."

"Huh?" I scratch my head. Then Travis does the same. Does he mean he has stuff going on too, or he knows I do? No, there’s no way he can know. "What’s up?"

Travis laughs. "Nothing. You know…too many girls, not enough time and all. So…Kira?"

 I shrug. "I like hanging out with her." Actually, I like more than just hanging out with her and if I didn’t feel like my life might self-combust at any second, I’d definitely want to be with her. Scratch that. I do want to be with her, I’m just not doing anything about it. I don’t think.

"Hooking up?"

"Nope."

"Damn." Travis laughs again.

After shaking my head to get some of the extra water off, I say, "Still don’t know what I’m doing tonight, though. Mom really might want me home." Translation, she might need me home. "I need to talk to her and Kira too."

"Okay. Text me if you come out. A few guys are hanging out tonight, so I’ll be with them. We’re looking for a place to party." The urge to ask him about the partying climbs up my throat, but I shove it down, not wanting to look like the guy who’s giving him shit when he’s having fun after a break up. Travis doesn’t give me time anyway, sliding his hat on backward and saying, "And, dude? You so want Kira. You should go for it. I’m pretty sure she’s feelin’ you too."

I don’t have time to think about what he said, because I’m still worried about going out there and talking to Mom. She showed up a little into the third quarter. Being a coward, I came straight to the locker room after our win, not ready to talk to her yet. Afraid of what I don’t want to hear in her voice or see in her eyes.