Where's My Oscar?
Friday, November 9th, 2018
Karmen Sinclair
The first half is coming to an end. There are only thirty seconds left on the clock.
Riverside is down by three, and they have possession.
The ball is snapped.
Channing bursts through an opening straight up the middle untouched.
The crowd jumps up, shouting and screaming.
Forty-yard line.
Thirty.
Twenty.
Ten.
At the five-yard line, a defender wraps around Channing, but he still manages to cross into the endzone.
It’s his third touchdown of the night.
Cowbells ring. People cheer. Channing pulls off his helmet with a grin.
It’s not the usual cocky grin, but something softer. Happier.
His eyes scan the crowd until they find me, and he smiles like I discovered fire.
Riverside’s coach calls a timeout. Channing’s smile fades, his brows drawing together.
The coach walks out onto the field toward Channing, his head down.
He says something to Channing.
Channing’s jaw drops.
His hand flies to his mouth.
It was about damn time.
At the sideline, he throws his helmet on the turf. Tears glisten on his cheeks. He roughly wipes them away. Channing glances at me, his lips trembling. I rush from the bleachers and meet him by the locker room.
“Channing, what’s wrong?”
“He-My father,” he whispers. “He’s dead.”
My face falls. "What?”
“I-I don’t know,” his voice cracks. He runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. I grab his hand, tightly squeezing it. “I have to go.” He takes a step away before stopping. “Will- Can you come with me?”
I wrap an arm around him and pull him to me. “I’ll drive.”
“My family… I’m the only one left.” His hot breath fans across my chest as he lies against me in his bed.
I run my fingers through his hair. “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”
Even I have a hard time believing myself.
Everyone leaves eventually.
And those that stay will eventually betray you.
He wraps his arms around my waist and buries his head further into my neck. “Tell me about them.”
He gulps. “I was never close to them, but… they were my parents. My mother had such high expectations for me. I hated her for it. She expected so much from me, and I always felt like I was disappointing her.” A warm tear lands on my neck. “But I’d give anything to have her back. She just wanted me to be my best.”
“My father was like that,” I confess. “Nothing was ever good enough for him, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss when things were simpler.”
“What was he like?”
I gulp. “He was a hard man. He put me through a lot, but I still loved him.” I quietly laugh. “Because that’s what children do. They love their parents despite everything.” My smile fades. “I hated him, but I wouldn’t be who I am if it weren’t for him.”
“My father and I used to have so much fun before my mother passed.” He chokes on his next words. “He loved her so much.” A tear rolls down his cheek. “And then she was gone.” His voice breaks. “And he was gone too.” He takes a shallow breath. “He shut me out and left me alone to figure everything out by myself. And then I changed.
“My grades tanked. I quit football. Started racing and dealing.” He shrugs weakly. “I just wanted to feel something. I buried all my pain and grief and pretended I was fine. Then my father had his heart attack and suddenly I was running everything.” He sighs heavily and sniffles. “Everything fell apart. The Wests became a shell of what we used to be. Everyone left. No one wanted some troubled kid telling them what to do.
“And then Kendall came along, and she stayed. She believed in me despite everything.” His voice cracks. “And it got her killed.” His shoulders begin to shake. “I killed her.”
“You were drowning, Channing. You lost your mother. Then your father. Then yourself.” I run my fingers through his hair. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“If it weren’t for me, dragging her to a fucking drug deal, she’d still be alive.” He exhales harshly. “I’m not a good person, Rhea.”
I pull away from him. He glances at me, his eyes red and puffy. “I’ve known far worse people than you.” I cup his face in my scarred hand. “You’re not a bad person, Channing. You never were. The guilt you’re carrying isn’t yours,” I whisper. “It belongs to whoever took her away.”
“I’ve- No one has ever…” His lips quiver. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”
“Because you’re a good person.” I smile softly. “You took someone else’s burden and made it your own. You took the blame because it was easier to blame yourself than someone else. A bad person wouldn’t do that.” He chokes back a sob. “Let it out, Channing. Grieve your parents. Grieve Kendall. Grieve the boy you used to be.” My gaze drifts to the mirror hanging on the wall where my reflection stares back at me. “Keeping it inside won’t save you.”
And he does.
Not once do I look away from my reflection.
Channing sobs into my shoulder and I tightly envelop him in my arms. I rub his back as his body shakes with each cry. My shirt sticks to my skin, his tears soaking through the thin fabric.
In the mirror, my reflection watches me with cold eyes.
I almost pity her.
After a while, he falls asleep in my deceitful arms.
