They were ganging up on me.
Anger held me down on the ground. Sadness gripped my feet so I couldn’t kick free. Disgust straddled my chest and kept punching me in the face. Fear circled us like a referee, waiting to see who’d win.
Joy had already run away.
“Today is one great day” suddenly felt like something I’d said years ago.
My mom got up from the brown-and-white sectional. I didn’t even see her move until she was hugging me. I could feel her soft hair against my hot cheeks. My own tears tried to escape, but I wouldn’t let them. Disgust wouldn’t let them.
Screw sadness.
How could they decide this without me?
I know I was never part of their big decisions, but Dad usually at least asked what I thought. Now, disgust just grew stronger inside me as she hugged me. I didn’t hug her back.
She really believed it.
She believed my dad cheated on her.
Cheated. On her.
She was confused. I mean, look at me—I stayed loyal to Jessica. I talked to and pretty much rejected Tracy. I noticed April, yeah, but I left my curiosity alone. Even when Jonathan said that if Tracy gave me a chance I’d probably cheat, I didn’t. I could’ve. But I didn’t.
Dad could’ve done the same.
There wasn’t another woman here—when would he even have time? Between coming to my games, taking care of my sister and her bipolar disorder, and working nine to five, he didn’t have time.
Mom was jumping to conclusions. She wasn’t even giving him a chance.
“Lonnie, I know it’s a lot to take in.”
Dad’s voice came from behind her. He reached for my shoulder. I pulled back, which made me pull away from her too.
I looked at him. I’d been mad at my dad before. Sad, even scared, but this feeling—this disgust—was something else. It grew inside my heart, spreading through my veins, crawling into my brain. I didn’t see my dad anymore. Or my mom. Or our living room.
I only saw an obstacle.
He was making this decision because he was the man of the house. What he said always went. Even before the fighting, I’d heard their arguments—Mom would always give in. He wasn’t abusive, but he ruled this family.
“That’s how God intended it,” he’d say at church.
He talked about the Orisha too, but those were just stories to him.
The real memory that screamed in my head was him saying, “Boys don’t cry.”
I let disgust stomp on sadness’s throat.
I let anger hold me down, even though disgust made me ignore the fear I had of him.
“How could you decide that?”
The words came out of me before I could think. Fear was there, but so were anger and disgust. I’d never challenged him like that before.
His eyes met mine, hurt showing through the calm. But was it hurt for me—or for his pride? Or was it guilt? Did he cheat?
Now anger took full control.
It poisoned my chest and clenched my fist.
Mom’s voice from last night flashed in my head—her shouting, the phone call, the name of the other woman.
I wanted to hit him. Kick him.
But Fear stood by his side.
“The only thing stopping you is fear and common sense.”
He used to say that whenever I hesitated. Now it sounded like a curse.
“Son,” he said softly, “sometimes things happen and people grow apart.”
I couldn’t believe it. Anger and disgust whispered, attack, but Fear stood his ground.
I closed my eyes, forcing back the tears.
This was my fault.
He wanted to take me camping, but I said no. He went with his friend Jamie instead. Or… was that even true?
I didn’t want to think anymore.
I didn’t want my mom to be right.
I didn’t want Joe and Jonathan to be right.
But I didn’t want Mom to hurt either.
Why was he leaving us?
Family—that’s all we ever talked about when it wasn’t sports or girls.
I released my fist. Fear stepped forward, blocking anger and disgust. Dad reached out again, and this time I let his hand touch my shoulder.
“Lonnie, do you want to talk about it?” Mom asked.
I needed to get away from both of them.
Disgust shoved anger aside and wrapped around my throat. Fix this, it hissed. Figure it out.
Why were they both so calm about tearing our family apart?
I shook it off and forced a smile.
Joy came back, small but pretending to be enough.
“No, I get it,” I said. “I do. I just… don’t understand.”
The words fell apart before I could finish. They looked like kids to me—confused, lost, helpless.
And that’s when I thought of Javier.
Jonathan and Joe were my best friends, sure. But Javier was the one who lived closest, right across Main Street. To get there, I’d have to cross the field that linked our courts to the ones facing Tuskegee Street.
Javier’s dad was Jamie.
“I think I just need some time,” I said. “I’m going to Javier’s house.”
I smiled to reassure them. Mom nodded, but Dad’s grip on my shoulder tightened.
“Lonnie, no, you—”
“Please, Dad. I promise I’m okay. Like you said—sometimes people grow apart.”
I dropped my school bag—I hadn’t realized I was still holding it—and ran.