The next day, the boys head off early for training, and I spend some time cleaning up. I even chance to make a meal for when they return. It’s met with much enthusiasm.
I’m too sore for more sex, so I’m treated to many cuddles while we watch TV and a load of kisses too.
Friday is the day of the game, and there is frantic energy in the house as they all get ready to leave. As we pile into the trucks, I realize that I have no idea who they’re playing. When Donovan tells me it’s my college team, my heart sinks.
I never told them that the father of my baby plays ball too. They had no reason to know that coming to watch this game would be a nightmare for me.
How will I deal with seeing Justin? We haven’t spoken since the day he punched the wall. Cathy knows everything now and has probably been tearing him a new one ever since. But maybe it’ll be okay. There are going to be so many people there. I can hide among the crowd, and Justin won’t even know I’m there. I swallow against the nerves that have tightened my throat, trying to maintain an even expression. This day is about my boys. It’s about them doing their best in front of the scouts so that they can fulfill their dreams and make Dad proud.
The crackle of nervous anticipation coming off them all has me edgy by the time we get there. I have a ticket for a seat close to the field, and they leave me to head to the changing rooms. I’m one of the first to take a seat, and I glance around, feeling like a fish out of water. This is the boys’ college. I won’t know anyone here. In my purse, my phone vibrates. When I reach in to grab it, I see Cathy’s name flash across the screen. I can see you, the message says, and as cold dread settles inside me, a shiver runs over my scalp. Is she here?
I don’t want to look, but how can I not? If she’s sitting behind me, I’d want to know. I try to look out of the corner of my eyes, turning my head only slightly. It’s not hard to spot them on the other side, waving as though they’ve seen an old friend, except that’s not what this is about. This is about letting me know that they know where I am. Cathy’s vindictiveness isn’t new. She’s renowned for taking poor unsuspecting people and grinding them into the dirt with her viciousness.
Oh God.
I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to get embroiled in a slanging match. I don’t want her to humiliate me in front of my boys, and I don’t want her to know what I’m involved in here. The gossip swirling about the baby is enough. Adding a polyamorous relationship would just push it over the edge. Plus, Mom would find out for sure, and she’d hit the roof.
I’m sweating as my thoughts churn. I should have stayed at the house. I should have made my excuses, but the boys are so excited that I’m going to be here cheering for them. I couldn’t let them down.
My phone buzzes again. Justin is mine. Don’t even think about talking to him ever again, Cathy messages.
Does she seriously think I want him? Can she not see what a waste of space he is? There is no way I’d want to put my child through having a flake for a father. Kids need reliable parents who don’t drop in and out of their lives at the drop of a hat. They don’t need to be left to feel less-than because their parent can’t deal with adult-level responsibility. I guess she’s so possessive of him out of her own insecurity. Or maybe I’m too kind, and it’s just a special level of crazy that motivates her. Who knows! All I do know is that when this game is done, I’m running out of here as fast as I can. I can get lost in the crowd and find somewhere for the boys to collect me that’s away from here.
The stadium slowly begins to fill, and with it, the anticipation of the game builds. There’s music, and the boys’ college cheer team is out in force with their barely-there costumes and megawatt smiles. I recognize a few of the girls from the party, Briana and Candy.
I end up sitting among college students, some of whom are friends of the boys. “You’re Maggie, right?” the girl to the left of me says.
“Yes.”
“I’m Aubry. Gordon told me you’d be here. He told me to look after you.” She flicks her auburn hair that’s glossy and full. Maybe that’s why she was given her name.
“That’s sweet. Thanks.”
“Do you like football?” She takes a bite of her hotdog, gesturing toward the field.
“The men in tight pants make it bearable.”
Aubry laughs and nods her head with wide, expressive green eyes. “The tight pants are all most of us girls are here for,” she says. “Although a lot would deny it.”
“I’m stressing,” I say. “The boys were all really wired before we got here. This game means a lot, not just the result but how they play. And there is so much conflict between Gordon and Cox.”
“I heard about the party,” she says. “Shawna told me you stepped in to stop it escalating.”
“Men aren’t good at keeping calm when their egos are being threatened.”
“Especially the pumped-up athletic ones.”
“I think Cox is taking something… he’s so huge, and the anger there just doesn’t seem natural.”
Aubry looks thoughtful, her eyes drifting to where the players are starting to run onto the field. The stadium erupts. In my hand, my phone buzzes again, and instead of cheering my boys on and watching all the preliminaries, instead of internally praying that they do their best and that luck is on their side, my attention is drawn back to more messages from Cathy.
I hope you lose your skank baby. No child deserves a slut mother like you.
Justin never wanted to be with you. He told me you were desperate. He told me he felt sorry for you.
You’re pathetic. Even your dad didn’t love you.
Everyone knows what you did. Don’t think you can come back to college. It’s over for you.
Time for you to sign up for food stamps like your mom.
By the time I get to the last word, I feel sick to the very pit of my stomach. I know her words are terrible. I know that no one should ever say such horrible things to another person. I even know that some of it isn’t true, but some of it is. Some of it slices my heart because it’s things I tell myself. It’s things that I feel deep in my own soul. Desperate… slut… didn’t love you… never wanted you… pathetic. It’s like she read all my deepest fears and regurgitated them back to me.
Words shouldn’t have the power to slay, but they do. They slice through all the protective barriers we put up. They destroy all the tentative feelings of hope that we weave for ourselves.
“Are you okay?” Aubry asks softly. My hand that is still clutching the phone is trembling and I feel cold, as though all the blood has fallen from my face.
“Yes,” I whisper, but it doesn’t sound convincing. Aubry doesn’t know me, though, and she doesn’t push against my denial.
“Look, there’s Gordon… he’s waving.”
I glance up, and there he is. I can’t see much of his face, just the dark smudges he’s painted under his eyes, but his hand is waving as though his life depends on it. Aubry’s waving, but I check behind me to make sure he’s not looking at someone else. No, just us. I wave back tentatively and then stop quickly because I don’t want Cathy to notice. I don’t want her to know anything about the boys.
Gordon’s arm drops, and I immediately feel terrible. My priority should be them, not some awful specter from my past. I see him jog into a huddle, and then more helmeted heads turn in my direction. Even without seeing their expressions, I know they’re worried. We’re too tuned into each other not to know when something’s wrong.
“I hope they’ve got their heads on straight,” Aubry says. Next to her, another girl shouts encouragement onto the field. That’s what I should be doing. The boys need to know I’m their biggest cheerleader, but instead, I feel trapped.
My eyes are drawn to the opposing team, drawn to Justin like magnets. He’s strutting. All the arrogance and confidence he exudes used to be a turn-on but not anymore. Now he looks more like a turkey than a desirable man. He’s so much lesser than my foster brothers that it’s laughable.
Cathy is fighting for this joke of a man who would punch a wall rather than deal with his responsibilities, and on this field, there are eleven men who would push him out of the way to take on his responsibilities. It’s shameful.
But these good men shouldn’t have to pick up the pieces. They shouldn’t be lumbered with someone like me.
Tears burn at my throat, so I pull a bottle from my purse and take a big drink of water. I’m sweating too, the prickle beneath my armpits so uncomfortable that I have to move my arms. Play starts, and my foster brothers are playing offense. With each play, they gain ground, and inside, I’m cheering for them. I’m praying for them. I will the universe to take note of how much they deserve to win and make it so.
Logan is playing quarterback, his strong, agile body swathed in the huge shoulder pads that go some way to protecting him against the huge defense of the opposing team. The skill he shows in his evasive movements and throws is mesmerizing. Hunter is further forward, his bigger frame combined with speed, making him the perfect tight end. They make the play seem easy, and for a while, I relax into watching them.
As they stretch further ahead on the scoreboard, Cathy’s messages start again.
Why are you here? Do you think Justin needs you to cheer for him?
He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t want you.
You’re not part of things anymore. You made your bed, now go and lie in it.
I try to fix my attention back on the game. It’s only the end of the first quarter, and my nerves are frazzled.
“They’re playing well,” Aubry says. “I think they have a good chance of winning this game.”
“Don’t speak too soon,” the girl next to her says. “You know how easily these games can switch.”
“True. Logan is doing good, but I wonder if Coach will bring Sean in later in the game.”
“Is that what usually happens?”
“Sometimes. I guess it depends on how Coach is feeling about the state of play. Sean’s so gorgeous. I just love watching him play. That ass in those tight pants. He could crush walnuts with those glutes.”
I nod in agreement, even as my heart drops into my stomach. Aubry doesn’t know what’s going on in our house. She has no idea that she’s talking about someone who I care about, someone who has been inside my body and held me in his arms. The violent surge of jealousy I feel isn’t fair to Aubry, but I can’t help it. My hand clenches so tightly that my fingernails cause painful crescents in my skin. I start thinking about all the other amazing women there are in the world that could make my foster brothers happier than me. They could have their own lives, their own women who’d give them their own families. They’re saying that they want a relationship with me, but what do they know? They’re so young. They don’t know me well enough. They feel sorry for me because of all the things that Cathy has rightly pointed out.
I imagine Sean leaning down to kiss Aubry. He’d tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and graze her lips with his in a teasing whisper of a kiss. He’d smile against the skin of her neck while he whispered all the dirty things that he’d like to do to her when they’re alone. Maybe they’d get married, and he’d make love to her, filling her with babies, raising his family with the hard work and dedication I know he gives to everything he does.
My heart is pierced by my own thoughts.
The game continues, and the team switches into defense. I spot John and Reggie, and the triplets. The more physical the game gets, the harder it is for me to watch. The impacts they take to their bodies must bruise, and it breaks my heart. Those bodies were mine for a time. Those bodies were perfect and beautiful, and now they’re getting pummeled.
I don’t like this game. I don’t like the way they have to suffer for their passion. I hate the way Justin is getting the run around them. Justin’s team scores, and I want to scream. He doesn’t deserve to steal glory from my foster brothers. He should be forced to hide in their shadow.
Cathy is screaming her support, celebrating like a mad thing when they get closer to equalizing, but it’s only temporary. It’s as though the more fired up she gets, the worse her vitriol becomes.
Justin told me you were bad in bed. He said you just lay there and expected him to do all the work. He told me that he was thinking about me the whole time, wishing it was me there and not you.
I have no way of knowing if her words are true, but they still sting like the landing of a whip against tender skin.
He said you were desperate for him to stay with you. That you cried when you told him about the baby, and he tossed you out. I wish I’d seen that.
Even though I know that is nothing even close to the truth, I still flush with embarrassment. Is this what she’s spreading at college? I can never go back there.
“Come on!” Aubry shouts. She’s up and out of her seat, and so is her friend. All around me, they’re shouting the names of the men that had given me hope that my life could change.
The second quarter ends, and I feel a wave of nausea that beats anything I’ve ever felt before. I taste bitterness, and my mouth fills with saliva. I’m running from my seat in seconds, frantically scanning for the nearest bathroom. I don’t know how I make it, but I do. After, I wash my mouth out in the sink and pat my face with a paper towel.
In the mirror, my face is gaunt and tired. My skin seems pallid, and my eyes shadowed beneath by stripes of purply blue. When I glance down, my hands are shaking. I know that it’s partly from the shock of being sick, but that’s not the only reason. My racing heart is caused by adrenaline. Everything in me is screaming to run.
I could leave now. There must be an information desk here for me to find out about bus routes. I could get home before the boys and pack up my things. I could go back home and lock myself in my bedroom to hide from the world. It’s what I want to do because everything else seems too hard. But if my foster brothers come out and see my seat empty, they’ll worry. It’ll mess with their heads when they need to have all their focus on the game. I’m not a selfish person, and there is no way that I’d willfully do something that I know would hurt them that way. I want what’s best for them, whether it’s what’s best for me or not.
The walk back to my seat is filled with dread. I don’t check my phone anymore, just leave it in my purse. Cathy’s said enough.
Play continues, and I try to focus on my boys. I cheer along with Aubry and the rest of their friends. My heart is in my mouth as the scores keep edging upward, always too close to call. As Logan is pulled out, the crowd claps its appreciation, and when Sean is brought on in his place, the crowd roars enthusiastically. Aubry is right about his ass in those tight pants.
I try to forget all the self-doubt swirling in my head and concentrate on the game, and for a while, I achieve it. I find the reason that all these people are here cheering for these teams. When you care about the people playing football, it’s possible to get lost in their struggle for yards and their battle for a ball. It’s possible to get lost in the physical fury of it and the mind-bending skill.
My foster brothers are a dream team, and whatever it was that my dad did to help them achieve this sporting prowess, I am momentarily in awe. Surely the scouts in the crowd will see that they each deserve a shot at glory in the NFL. There isn’t a player on that team who isn’t working one hundred percent.
“I think they might do it,” Aubry gasps as the clock counts down the final quarter. Sean is struggling for space, weaving in and out of men who look like brick walls, his arm poised to throw. Harley’s there, and for a split second my mind blocks out all of the shouting and cheering, and there is just the two of them, surrounded by scrambling bodies thudding into each other like monster trucks and the perfect arc of the ball.
Aubry is off her seat, screaming at the ball, screaming at Harley, screaming at the world, and with seconds to go, my foster brothers achieve the touchdown that wins the game.
Thank you, I say in my mind to whatever power out there supported their glory. The crowd around me is on its feet, but I’m too pumped with quiet relief to do anything other than sit and watch them celebrate. And when they’ve finished the backslapping and bro-hugs and have been sportsmanly and shaken the hands of the other team, they look to where I’m sitting.
Eleven faces are turned to me, and Aubry is cheering and waving. I wave back, too, smiling despite all the worry rattling around in my head. This is a moment my dad would have loved to have shared with them, and for that, I’m grateful to be here in his place.
My purse vibrates on my lap, an indicator of more messages. I don’t want to look, though. I just want to get out of here.
“I’m going to wait for them outside,” I tell Aubry.
“They’ll be a while,” she says. “You sure you don’t want to stay and hang with us?”
“Thanks, but I’m not feeling too good. I’ll go get some air.”
Aubry nods, her eyes searching my face. “It was nice meeting you, Maggie.”
“You too.”
There are so many people milling around that it takes me ages to get outside. They showed me where to wait so we can go home together, so I find a wall to perch on and watch the world go by. Couples pass me hand in hand, stopping to talk or kiss, laughing and joking. There is so much happiness in relationships that don’t start with challenges.
Maybe some people are just lucky that way. They’re born into families with parents who love each other and stay together, the stability trickling down into their kids. Maybe, without early trauma, a person can trust more easily. Maybe that trust is the best basis for relationships, and that’s why people who struggle to trust seem to fail at this more.
I’m nineteen, and I’m already tired. I meet people my age, expecting them to let me down as Dad did. I don’t value myself enough to expect the right kind of treatment. I wish so hard that I could be more like the girls dressed in their cut-off shorts and sandals, faces filled with light and hope, the boyfriends on their arms staring adoringly. Instead, I’m nineteen and pregnant, about to become a burden for whoever will get saddled with me. It shouldn’t be Mom who bears the brunt of my bad decisions, but at least she’s my flesh and blood. My foster brothers are volunteering to shoulder the burden, and really, they’re nothing to me. We shared a parent in the loosest sense. That’s it.
Time passes slowly, but eventually I see Dwayne emerge into the sunlight. He blinks, the brightness startling him for a second, then his gaze finds mine, and he breaks into a smile.
“Maggie, we did it!” he shouts. Behind him, Donovan and Daryl appear, followed by the rest of their brothers, all sharing the same euphoric expressions.
I stand as they approach, forcing down the cloud of my doubts and painting on a smile. “You were awesome,” I say as Dwayne picks me up and spins me around. The wind whips my hair, and the motion and Dwayne’s laughter momentarily takes me to their place of happiness, and it’s amazing.
Then a voice pierces the air, and my heart seems to stop in my chest.
“THERE SHE IS!” Cathy screeches, striding forward followed by her minions, and next to her is Justin. His face is dark, probably because she’s been goading him. She always could twist him in whatever direction she needed him to turn.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Maggie?” he says as Dwayne stands me back on my feet. “I told you I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“She’s desperate,” Cathy says, her face contorted into a twisted smile of glee and eyes alight with the power of confrontation. “She thought she could stalk you at the game, and I wouldn’t be here. She wants you back.”
The boys have all stopped, the smiles drop from their faces as they try to work out what the hell is going on.
“I’m not here for Justin,” I say. “I didn’t even know he was playing until I got here.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Cathy says, rolling her eyes. “You still can’t see it,” she says to Justin, grabbing his hand to make sure she has his full attention. “She’s a liar. She’ll do anything to break up what we have.”
“You’re welcome to each other,” I say. Dwayne takes a step closer to me, an action that feels protective. I can tell he still doesn’t understand what is happening.
“He’s not going to be a father to your skank baby,” Cathy spits. “That child will grow up as you did. With a single mom on welfare, wearing clothes from thrift stores.”
I’m about to tell Cathy that I don’t need anything from Justin when Sean steps forward, putting himself between Justin and Cathy and me. “Listen, you nasty bitch. Maggie doesn’t want or need shit from you or this joke of a man hiding behind you. Now, you need to back the fuck off out of here before you say anything else stupid, and I really lose my cool.”
A shiver of dread passes through me because nobody ever stands up to Cathy. Her mouth is hanging open like a fish gasping for water, and Justin looks between me and the mass of men who have all taken their places surrounding me. I’ve never felt more supported in my life.
“And who are these idiots?” Cathy spits. She scans the group, her evil and twisted mind working overtime. She knows she just got put in her place, but she doesn’t intend on staying there. “They can’t be family because they don’t look alike. Don’t tell me you’re fucking them too.”
She says it as a flippant throwaway comment, but I feel a swell of dread that’s almost enough to knock me from my feet. Around me, the shoulders of my foster brothers seem to stiffen. We should all be jumping in to deny Cathy’s accusation, but it’s as if all of our tongues have been shocked into silence.
Justin’s eyes flick around like he’s trying to work out what the hell is going on. He’s always been good at sizing up situations, and he seems to size this one up just fine.
“Oh, hell no,” he says. “You can’t be serious.”
Sean steps forward just slightly, but it’s enough to turn Justin’s eyes jittery with panic. He’s asking himself if he’s going to have to take on eleven men who are bigger than him, but he’s also riding a wave of anger at losing the game and hyped up by Cathy’s words. “Cathy’s right about you, Maggie. You thought I was your meal ticket, and when that didn’t work, you’ve latched onto these guys… these fucking perverts.” When no one says anything, Justin’s confidence seems to grow. “You’re a slut, Maggie. You’re never getting a cent…”
Sean’s fist flies like a bullet out of a gun, cracking Justin around the face. It seems to happen in slow motion, and there is a collective surge forward as his brothers move to hold him back and make it clear that no more will be tolerated, but as they do and as there is no denial, Cathy’s face seems almost ready to split with delight. She’s not even looking at Justin, who is clutching his cheek and stepping back with shock. She’s just gazing around at everything, probably imagining all the new and terrible things she can spread about me. Her tongue licks over her top teeth in a lizard-like action that seems suddenly hideous. “You need to back the fuck up right now,” Dwayne says through gritted teeth.
More of Justin’s teammates drift over, noticing that one of their own is currently massively outnumbered, and I can see that this is going to escalate into a brawl. Out of the corner of my eye, Cox and his cronies appear, and it’s as though there’s a threat at every angle.
My foster brothers have done everything they can to be scouted today, and this could ruin their chances. No one wants a troublemaker on their team. Cathy and Justin aren’t the boys’ problem. They’re my problem. I can’t bring so much conflict into their lives. “Just leave it!” I shout, but no one seems to hear me. Cathy’s laugh is a harsh hyena, and Justin’s eyes are blazing with fury.
“She’s really fucking them all… look at her face…” She points in my direction, and I stare at this terrible person who I used to think was my friend. There is a darkness in her that spills out over the world like a biblical plague.
“Just leave it, Cathy. It’s none of your business.”
She shakes her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. Justin is mine, and that baby isn’t going to have anything to do with him, but maybe this situation will sort everything out. Maybe they’ll fuck it out of you, and it’ll die.” She laughs again manically, and for the first time, I see the shock on Justin’s face. He turns to look at her, his eyes wide as though he’s suddenly seeing her for the first time.
Nothing has prepared me for the horror of that statement or my reaction. Everything in my body vibrates with anger, and I run, clutching my purse to my shoulder. I don’t even know where I’m going, just that I need to get away from all of this and hoping and praying that my departure will shock the boys from getting involved with Justin any more than they have already. Surely, they’ll come after me rather than fight.
I find myself in a parking lot and am narrowly missed by a car that honks in a loud stream and sets the hairs rising on the back of my neck. Shit. I turn quickly, but I can’t see anybody, and I panic even more. Have I just left the boys to ruin their lives and pick up the pieces of my shitty situation?
I’m finally out on the road, and there is a bus stop with a bus waiting. I have no idea where the bus is going; all that I know is that getting on it will get me away from Cathy and Justin and the poison that wishes my defenseless unborn child death.
