The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs
Chapter Eight
“You knowmy brother stopped attending football practice weeks ago, right?”
Duane plopped the pillow and set it against the scrawny hospital cot.
“So there’s no need for you to keep coming here. He’s not even here today.”
Duane brushed the sheets off, flicking away crumbs of chocolate chip cookies. When he’d finished, he turned to the girl leaning on clunky, metal crutches. “You want to explain why you’re eating junk food in bed?”
“Back off, Marden.” Zaka scowled at him. “Everyone copes with stress in their own ways.”
“Great. You can tell that to the physician. Excuse me! Doctor!”
Zaka scrambled to him, moving deftly on her crutches. She slapped a hand over his mouth. Her black eyes ablaze, she hissed, “Sh! I already got scolded today.”
“Why do I find that easy to believe?” he teased, swatting her hand down.
She plopped into the bed and shot a glare around the room. “It’s this place that sucks. All I did was blast a little music from my laptop and people started complaining.”
“You call that music?” An old woman in the neighboring bed croaked. She had dark skin and eyes so sunken he wondered if she could see through them. Deep wrinkles carved into her paper-thin skin and reminded him of the patterns in a mahogany tree trunk. “What you were playing was noise and nonsense.”
“Noise and…” Zaka made an offended sound in the back of her throat. “JEN-TEN are literal prodigies.” She pointed a defensive finger at the old woman. “They’re musical geniuses who never sacrifice their sound for commercial success. How dare you call a global sensation ‘nonsense’?”
“They’re poisoning the minds of our youths,” the old woman argued.
Zaka was practically foaming at the mouth.
Duane watched it all with an amused smirk. He could tell the old lady was lonely. Poking at Zaka’s K-pop addiction was the easiest way to spark a conversation.
Unfortunately, Zaka didn’t see through it like he did. Or maybe she knew she was being pulled by the nose and cared too much about those Korean pop stars to hold back.
“How are they poisoning our minds when all their songs promote positivity, love, and respect?”
“Don’t you see what they wear? And how they put on makeup? Hmf. Young men don’t act like men anymore. Wearing girly makeup and dancing like women—”
Zaka gasped. “K-pop is a global treasure and wearing makeup is a part of show-biz. Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”
Duane slanted Zaka a warning look. Even if the lady was getting on her nerves, she was still an elder and deserved respect.
Zaka pouted, much like Yanique had when he asked for his report card, and fell into her hospital cot.
Duane flashed the old woman a smile and dipped his head in apology. “I’ll buy her some headphones, so she won’t disturb you in the future.”
“Thank you, young man.” The old woman beamed. When she pointed her gaze at Zaka again, it was with a scolding look. “Why can’t you be as nice as your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” Zaka sputtered. “He’s not my boyfriend. How old do you think I am, lady?”
Duane folded his arms over his chest. “Hey, I’m not that old.”
“You’re more than a decade older than me.” She coughed. “You’re ancient.”
Duane frowned at her.
Zaka waved her hand. “Close the curtains. I want to talk to you in private.”
“They can still hear. It’s not like these curtains are walls.”
She continued to gesture at him, her thick braids bouncing across her shoulders.
He pulled the curtain that separated the hospital beds and strode closer to Zaka. “What is this about?”
“It’s about Casey.” She stared at the ground, her shoulders slumped. “My brother didn’t want me to tell you, but I think it’s only right. He’s leaving Belize City.”
“What?”
“I know you feel sorry for us,” Zaka said quietly. “And I appreciate you looking out for Casey’s future, but he’s stubborn and he insists on working to pay the bills.” She picked at her bed sheet glumly. “I know it’s my fault. Ever since this stupid broken leg, I’ve been out of work. The medical bills are wracking up and it’s not pretty. We already had our parents debt to deal with and now this…”
“I’ll help,” he insisted. “I’ll—”
“Marden, we’re not asking for a handout.”
“Zaka.”
“I know you already paid for my prescriptions and my treatment. That’s enough. The more you give us, the more uncomfortable it is.”
Duane gritted his teeth in frustration. “Is it a lot?”
“What?”
“The total that you owe.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Zaka.”
She cut him off with a hand. “It’s my problem. I tried to hold it together, so Casey never found out, but when I got into the accident, everything fell apart.” She sighed. “I’m really sorry, Marden. I know you wanted him to go pro like you did and I wanted that for him, but he’s made up his mind. He’s going to work in Orange Walk and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop him.”
Duane stumbled back as ice skated through his veins. Unlike Yanique, who saw football as a way to skip school lessons and skate into fame and fortune, Casey was the opposite. The kid had a hard work ethic, a strong sense of self, and the determination to go far in a football career. Losing his parents early had made him mature beyond his years. He looked out for his sister and his team players and never got into trouble. His only love was football.
“You said he’s leaving Belize City for a job. Is that legal? He’s only sixteen.” Duane shook his head, reaching desperately for a way to fix it. “I’ll go talk to him.”
Zaka grabbed his arm. “It’s legal. Besides, he already left.”
Duane’s heart sank. He pulled out his phone and dialed Casey’s number.
Zaka hung her head. “He won’t answer.”
As she’d predicted, Casey didn’t pick up his phone.
Duane whirled around. “I’ll—”
“Don’t.” She closed her eyes. “You can’t be everyone’s hero, Marden. Just accept it and let it go.”
“Zaka, tell me where he went. I’ll make sure to bring him back.”
“This is what my brother asked for. I’ll honor his wishes.” She pointed to the left. “Please leave.”
Duane’s jaw clenched. His feet rooted in place and his first instinct was to fight. Fight until he could make things right for these siblings who had lost so much. But Zaka turned her face away and Duane forced himself to leave the curtains.
When he stepped out, he saw the old woman watching him with a pitiful glance.
“Is she okay?” the woman whispered.
Duane just shook his head and walked out. Should he hire someone to track Casey’s phone? Would that be pushing too far?
There was still time to prepare him for football season. He could let Casey cool off and then drag him back to Belize City. But what if Casey got injured on the job and couldn’t play anymore? What if his career ended before it could really begin?
Casey was good enough to earn an athletic scholarship to an international university. Good enough to try out at football camps and get recognized by scouts. Good enough to go far. Duane couldn’t let the kid’s future end here.
In an anxious rush, he marched down the hallway and almost didn’t see the wheelchair zooming toward him. Relying on his quick reflexes, Duane jumped back at the last minute, narrowly saving his toe from getting squashed.
“Sorry!” a breathless girl said on a gasp. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He nodded politely at her.
“Wait, you look familiar. Aren’t you… you’re the hot football coach, right?”
“Huh?”
“That’s what my sister and her friends call you. At least, that’s what they call you when their boyfriends aren’t around.”
Duane blinked rapidly, still bothered by the news about Casey. The girl in the wheelchair seemed excited, but he was not in the mood for conversation.
He smiled tightly, hoping that she got the hint.
She did not.
“I’ve always wanted to try football, but I just don’t have the legs for it.” She grinned wide.
Duane chuckled a little.
She smiled even harder. “Alright, points for you, hot football coach. Most people look so uncomfortable when I say things like that.”
“I wonder why?” He scrubbed his beard.
“Right? It’s not like I lost my sense of humor when I lost my ability to walk.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Marcy.”
“Duane, but you can continue to call me hot football coach.”
She laughed. “That’s a little too clunky on the tongue. How about I just call you hot and we leave it at that?”
“Aren’t you too young to be flirting with me, Marcy?”
“You started it.”
He barked out a laugh and gestured to the hallway. “Were you heading somewhere?”
“The parking lot. My truck is parked there.”
“You’re alone?” He glanced behind her. “Don’t you need someone to drive you?”
“I am the driver.” She lifted her chin proudly. “My sister’s boyfriend brought an adapted vehicle into Belize for me. He’s stupidly in love with my sister and I get to enjoy all the benefits of him being rich.”
Duane’s cheeks would hurt if he kept smiling like this. “So you have your own ride?”
“I do.” She made a face. “Although I’m not allowed to drive it on my own yet. My parents are a little overprotective. I can only drive when someone’s with me. Just in case.”
Duane bobbed his head.
“What about you? What are you here for?”
“I came to meet with one of my players.”
“He’s injured?”
“His sister.”
“Ah. I hope she gets better soon.”
Duane found his mood lifting in the face of her charming smile. “Me too.” He stuck a hand into his pocket. “You said you were at a game? Was it the little leagues, the juniors or the seniors?”
“It was the little leagues. I was there for Tay-Tay.”
His eyes widened. “Tay-Tay?”
“There you are!” A familiar voice cried out. “Marcy, you can’t just speed off like that. Some of us aren’t Special Olympic champions… you… know.” Yolanda scrambled to a stop, her jaw dropping. “Coach Marden.”
“Yolanda.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“He’s here to visit one of his team players. Their sister is here at the hospital.”
“Oh.” Yolanda blinked rapidly. “Wait, is it the same person you were visiting when you brought Tay-Tay with you after practice?”
“It is. Zaka had an allergic reaction to the medicine and the hospital called me as their emergency contact.”
“Oh.” She looked relieved.
He smirked at her. “Did you think I was here at the hospital for something else?”
“Me? No,” Yolanda sputtered. “I don’t think about you at all.”
“Is that why you and your friends call me ‘hot football coach?”
Yolanda shot Marcy a scolding look. “You told him?”
“It slipped out.”
Duane grinned. He should not enjoy the sight of Yolanda squirming as much as he did. But here he was, feeling warm inside and genuinely excited to watch the emotions play off her face. There had to be a reason every moment around her made his world brighter. A reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet.
Yolanda laughed nervously. “Would you look at the time? We should get going before your mom sends out a search party, Marcy.”
“Wait.” Duane stepped into her path.
She froze, her eyes widening as he drew closer.
Duane pulled Yolanda into his arms and gave her a hug. “I can’t wait for our date tomorrow.”
Yolanda went stiff with shock.
Marcy squeaked.
And Duane knew for sure that what he felt for this stunning woman was more than just a crush.
