Chapter 17

17

W ith one leg kicked from under the plush yet lightweight covers, Qamar lay on his back with his eyes closed, teetering on the edge of wakefulness and dreams. The night had been long, filled with Belinay’s tears and playful babbles. She was seven weeks old, and they were all in Lynn Beach—him, Janay, and their precious little girl.

“Qamar!” Janay’s voice pierced the morning silence, causing him to groan. He could hear her bare feet patter across the hardwood floor, down the hall, and into his room as she aggressively pushed the door open.

“I know you ain’t still sleep. Get up so you can get her. I have class in…” She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “…thirty minutes.”

“Why you can’t get ready earlier and drop her off at daycare?” He looked up at her with tired eyes, barely able to keep them open.

“Because what she got a daddy for?” Janay’s neck snaked as she retorted.

The tension between them was palpable. They were in a strange place—she was still pissed about what had happened over a month ago, and he walked around like he’d lost his best friend. Janay still tried her hand at seducing him, attempting to show him that being together was better for Belinay, but Qamar wasn’t trying to hear any of that.

He still hadn’t talked to Siasia, and Luna had been on his head about what went down with him and Solar. It felt like a tectonic plate had shifted in his world, leaving him disoriented and unsure of how to get things back on track. The weight of unresolved issues hung heavy in the air, and Qamar couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the precipice of something monumental, yet he had no idea how to navigate the landscape of his fractured life.

Qamar squeezed his eyes together while pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the not so nice things that wanted to come out of his mouth. Janay had been moving like her end goal was to stress him out. Like she was trying to get some payback for him not choosing her when she should’ve been easy going seeing as Belinay wasn’t his seed biologically. No matter how bad she pissed him off, he wasn’t going to throw that fact up in her face.

Instead of saying all the shit he wanted to say, he stretched his hands out to receive his happy baby. Belinay didn’t look like him but felt like his every time she was in his arms. Over the last few weeks, she’d gotten her weight up and was a short and juicy baby with fat jaws that he loved to kiss.

“Hey, Daddy baby,” he cooed, nuzzling his nose into her fat neck. She whined a little. “I know. That’s your mama always making all that noise early in the morning.”

Janay tightened her lips. “That’s cause your daddy always trying to play on my top,” she said, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of Qamar holding Belinay on his bare chest.

“I thought you had class,” Qamar called her bluff.

He’d noticed how many pictures Janay took and how much she posted them on her social media. He wasn’t into social media like that and only got on to post every now and then because of his NIL deals. Lately, he’d been on there to stalk Siasia’s page where she only posted her work. Anything else he wanted to know about her, he had to get it out of Noodle.

“I do and I’m leaving. Please get her there in a timely manner. Ain’t no need to be paying all that money for the daycare just for her not to be there.”

“Are you paying it?” Qamar gave her a deadpan stare.

Janay only rolled her eyes before stomping off. He had been so difficult since she’d been back in Lynn Beach. If she had it her way, she wouldn’t finish college and go on to be a kept baby mama to a professional soccer player. However, her mama nor Qamar weren’t trying to hear that.

As soon as his front door shut, his phone rung which annoyed him even more. Seeing it was Luna calling, he answered knowing if he didn’t she’d hop on the jet and be at his house.

“Yea?” he answered, rolling over to lay Belinay down since she’d dozed off.

“Don’t answer the phone like that,” Luna fussed. “What you doing anyway?”

“Still in the bed. Belinay right here.”

“Mm,” she huffed. “So that’s why your coach been calling me saying you ain’t been to practice or call… what’s going on with you, Qamar?”

Qamar exhaled heavily, regretting answering her call. “Luna, I just ain’t been feeling it.”

“Yea, your spirit all fucked-up. You gotta make shit right with your sister and French.”

“I don’t think one has anything to do with the other.”

“Clearly, you don’t know how to think because if you did you’d have your ass in class and at practice. What you think gone happen if you just let everything fall to the wayside?” Luna asked, hoping he’d think about her question before spewing something crazy. He’d been unhinged lately and she hated that for him.

Listening to Luna made his head ache. Qamar was tired of everyone telling him to man up then turn around and treat him like a child. “Look, what you need, Luna?” he asked, feeling like the conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“What I need?” Her voice rose a few octaves. “What I need is for you to not waste all that money I’ve spent for you to go to one of the top colleges with a soccer program. I need for you to pull your head out of your ass and handle your business. If you want to give it all up, don’t beat around the bush, just fuckin’ do it!”

“What you think I’m trying to do?” he yelled, startling Belinay into a cry. Immediately, he went to sooth her. Qamar rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of Luna’s words pressing down on him. His mind raced, thinking about the countless nights he’d spent on the field, the sacrifices, the dreams they both had. He knew she was right, but the pressure felt insurmountable. “Luna, it’s not that simple. Everything’s just... it’s too much right now.”

“You really so love struck over that damn girl that you’re ready to give everything up because she don’t want you?” Luna couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

She’d taken care of him, made a better life for him, and he was ready to throw everything down the drain because his heart got broken.

Luna's tone softened slightly, sensing his struggle. “I get it, Qamar. Life’s throwing you curveballs, but you gotta swing back. You’re stronger than this. And you’re not alone. We all want to see you succeed, but you gotta want it too.”

He sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. “I hear you, Luna. I do. I just need some time to figure things out.”

“Time’s ticking, Qamar. But I believe in you. Just remember that,” Luna said, her voice filled with a blend of concern and hope.

“Thanks, sis. I’ll try to get my head straight,” he replied, feeling a small spark of determination ignite within him.

“Good. Now go take care of Belinay and get your ass to practice,” she said, her tone lightening up.

“Will do,” Qamar said, ending the call. He looked down at his sleeping daughter, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. It was time to get his life back on track, for his kids and for himself.

Qamar checked the time on his phone, knowing he promised Coach he’d come in to talk to him. No matter how in over his head he got, he never wanted to waste people’s time. It was the one thing you couldn’t get back. Yet, rolling out of bed was easier said than done.

“God, I don’t know what you got in store for me, but I’m ready,” he announced with his eyes closed and his heart vulnerable.

Once he’d done his hygiene, he got Belinay ready before dropping her off at daycare. His next stop was the student athlete center where he knew Coach was going to get in his ass. Qamar knew he deserved it and wouldn’t give much pushback when he told him off.

Qamar, tall in stature and with a scowl etched deeply on his face, trekked the halls of the athletic building with heavy steps. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing his worry about what his coach was going to say. He’d missed almost a week’s worth of practice since he’d been back in Lynn Beach. After he dropped Siasia and Noodle off, he hopped back on the jet to take his ass home, where he hid away in his mama’s house, seeking solace in familiar surroundings. Now, it was time for him to face the music.

The fluorescent lights overhead flickered slightly, casting an unforgiving glare on the polished floors. Qamar’s mind raced, replaying the moments he spent at home, the conversations with his mom, and the quiet nights where he tried to drown his thoughts in anything but soccer. He couldn’t avoid this confrontation forever. The weight of his absence bore heavily on him, not just for his team but for himself.

As he approached the coach’s office, the murmurs of his teammates practicing in the gym echoed through the corridor, a stark reminder of what he’d been missing. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the turmoil inside him. The door loomed large and imposing, a barrier between his current state of disarray and the disciplined athlete he once was. He raised his hand, hesitating for just a second before knocking firmly. It was time to own up to his actions and find a way to get back on track.

“Qamar Moony,” Coach Daniels announced Qamar as he wasn’t familiar with his own name. “You kept your word,” he said, surprised.

“Always,” Qamar mumbled before helping himself to the empty seat at the front of Coach’s desk.

His office was a testament of teams hard work, success, and dedication. The walls were covered with framed pictures of picture-perfect moments captured at the height of the team’s success. Championship banners hung with pride, each one representing a season of the best team in the league. There had once been a time when Qamar’s eyes grew with pride when looking at the accomplishments. He even had a spot on the wall.

Coach Daniels’ wooden desk seemed larger than Qamar last remembered, and it swallowed him whole as he looked across it, trying to read Coach’s facial expressions. On the surface was a stack of paper that he glanced at and saw his name on one while Coach Daniel continued to type of the laptop that sat in front of him.

Qamar massaged the back of his head, giving his eyes time to look around the office more. The white board on wheels that Coach used to write out plays during practice was off to the side covered in diagrams, notes, Xs and Os that represented each player. The sound of Coach Daniel clearing his throat pulled Qamar’s eyes across the cherry wood desk that seemed larger than the sea.

“I take it that was your last championship with us?” He turned his head to look at the picture that showcased Qamar holding a trophy with a huge smile on his face.

Qamar shifted his weight in the chair, his fingers tapping an erratic rhythm against his thighs. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding eye contact as he swallowed hard, the sound seeming loud in the space that was both massive and too damn small. The air he’d told Siasia he sometimes struggled to breath in became diluted with self-destruction and doubt. He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.

“You ready to go pro. I can see it in your eyes—I’ve saw it in your eyes the first day you walked into practice.”

Finding his voice after he’d wet his lips, Qamar made eye contact with his coach. “I’m trying to do the right thing but I got two kids and my family stay on me about growing up while ordering my every step like a fuckin’ child.” Relief washed over him as the words spilled out. “I know I’m good—better than a lot of pro soccer players, all I need is to go up for the draft.”

Daniels leaned back in his leather executive office chair. The corners of his mouth lifted. “I’m going to miss you but I know you’re going to do great things. I entered you into the draft and have a buddy who wants to come check you out—Arkansas Arrows. Now, this guy runs a tight ship—likes his players to not be in the limelight. Real lowkey type of shit, if you know what I’m saying.”

Qamar’s head nodded, reading between the lines. “Thank you, Coach.”

“Don’t thank me, some fella named French called in that favor. Now, I know you’re excited to go pro, but I need you to still show up to every practice and class until further notice, Qamar,” Coach added stipulations.

“I gotcha.” He reached out to slap hands with his coach before trekking out the room with renewed motivation.

His family wasn’t going to agree with his moves but at the same time, like Siasia told him, it was his life to live however he saw fit.

Siasia.

He missed her so much. And if everything went the way he wanted it to go, he’d only have her to thank for seeing him deeper than anyone else ever had. He’d thank her for being vulnerable with him even when she thought her shit was just too dark for him to witness.

In a Siasia induced daze, he walked into the gym where his teammates were.

“King Qamar,” Drake called out, rushing him with a dap that ended in a brotherly hug. “New baby almost took you out, didn’t it?” he joked.

“Man, life almost took me out of it.” Qamar looked around, nodding to the others who spoke to him.

The gym used to give him a sense of peace but now, it was just a reminder that he wasn’t doing what he felt was right. Of course, he had to keep his body in check but the school gym was no longer the sanctuary it once was.

Drake looked around before pulling Qamar off to the side. “Aye, you heard what happened with your friend?”

“What friend?” Qamar asked perplexed. Drake was always clowning so he didn’t know if this was one of his jokes or what.

“Uh, ol’ girl from the party.”

“Nigga, what girl from the party? Look, Drake you my boy and all but I really ain’t in the mood for this shit right now.” Qamar stared him in the face, warning him to get to the point or move the fuck around. It was no hard feelings but like he’d stated he just wasn’t in the mood.

Drake cocked his head to the side. “Nigga, ol’ girl form the party that night. The pretty, thick, chick who Brenden was all over until you went and swoop her up.”

As if a light bulb went off in his head, Qamar knew exactly who Drake was talking about. He’d been so wrapped up in Siasia that he never disclosed her name to his friend—which was probably a good thing. Drake was cool but he gossiped a little too much for Qamar’s liking.

“Nah, what happened?” he asked.

Drake whistled for dramatic effects. “I don’t know all the details but I heard Brenden told his pops some shit so now she can’t even enroll here—like never ,” Drake put emphasis on the word never.

“Nigga, what?” Qamar’s face bunched. He was confused and no understanding what his friend was telling him. “How the hell Brenden stop somebody from enrolling?”

“That boy pops is the dean, Qamar… bruh you really need to stay in school.”

Dean Bolden being Brenden’s father must’ve slipped through his orientation packet because he didn’t know that. Maybe because before now, the details didn’t matter to him. But when it came to Siasia, everything mattered. He dug in his shorts for his phone to dial her number. The phone trilled but there wasn’t an answer. Next, he went to his Find My app to locate her. Ever since the night of Noodle not being able to get in touch with her, he activated the location since they were still on his phone plan.

“Damn, she’s here,” he blurted, taking off to her location but before he could get out of the athletic center fast enough, he heard her voice.