The N Word (Redefining Me #2) Page 2

  She could almost hear Nicky’s smile. “You’re lucky. Not all of us have a way to escape the shit in our lives.”

  She didn’t respond because she’d already known. As much as she hated walking into school each morning during the week, she had the weekends to get her through.

  “Nari Won Song!” Her mother’s voice pierced her veil of sleep, and Nari shot straight up in bed. A sharp pain stabbed through her skull, and she gripped the side of her head. A dark curtain of hair fell in front of her eyes to shield them from the light her mother switched on.

  “Umma,” she groaned. She may have never visited South Korea where her family was from, but she still had the Korean words and tendencies she flipped on around her family. “What time is it?”

  Her mother flicked her eyes to her watch. “Early, Nari. Very early.” Korean flew from her mouth as if she didn’t know she’d switched languages. She probably didn’t. Ji-a Won Song always ranted in Korean when she was angry.

  Nari leaned back with a sigh. Her mother was so predictable. It was way too early for her to attempt picking out the words she knew. Nari had grown up in a Korean household, yes, but also in a town where they were the only Korean-American family. She spoke the language, but only roughly in a mixture of Korean and English they called Konglish. When her parents immigrated, they’d had nothing. They were newly married, but young and full of dreams. Nari was proud of what her parents built. Her father made it through university, creating a life for his family that he’d never imagined.

  But it made them want the same for Nari. They held on tightly to their Korean heritage but also bought into the American dream, wanting Nari to have every opportunity. And for them, that meant focusing more on English and the lessons of American schools than her Korean roots. From a young age, her parents spoke more English around her than anything else.

  She knew it made her father sad, but he wasn’t one to argue.

  Her mother stopped speaking and stood at the end of the bed, fuming. Ji-a was a tiny woman with a slim figure. Dark hair stopped at her ears, curling toward sharp cheekbones and an angular jaw. Her small almost black eyes bore into her daughter’s.

  A groan came from the floor. Nicky. Nari had forgotten he was there.

  Her mother’s face softened when she noticed Nicky’s disheveled hair peeking out from under the blanket. Nari put all her strength into not rolling her eyes. Her mother would adopt the St. Germaine boys if she could.

  “Young man, you should probably be getting home. Your mother will worry.”

  Nicky scrambled off the floor, leaving the blanket in a pile near the pillow. “Uh, yes, ma’am. Thank you for, uh…” He turned his reddened face to Nari. “Letting me stay.”

  She offered him a tight smile, knowing as soon as he left, she was in for a world of hurt from her mother. She had to prepare her verbal boxing skills. “See ya, Nicky.”

  He walked by Nari’s mother into the hall. A moment later, they heard the front door open and shut.

  Nari’s mother narrowed her eyes. “You missed curfew.” Her words came in slow, controlled Korean.

  Nari resisted the urge to sigh. Her mother set a ridiculous curfew of ten at night even on the weekends. “I’m sorry, Umma.”

  “I don’t know what to do with you. Your final exams are coming fast. You shouldn’t be out at night. I want you home studying. You will not leave this house the rest of the weekend.”

  Nari didn’t tell her mom she didn’t have anywhere to go, anyway. Her mom didn’t care that she was only just now getting her friends Peyton and Cam back after the loneliest two years of her life. Or that they were her only true friends other than Nicky, who was two years younger. Even her bandmates weren’t exactly people she’d call friends.

  Her mom didn’t want to hear about her social life. If it was up to her, Nari wouldn’t have one at all. She’d spend all her time studying and preparing for colleges she’d applied for but had no desire to attend.

  Because here was the truth. Nari was an idiot. Okay, not really, but she felt like one. School wasn’t exactly her strong suit. Surprise, right? Behind her “smart girl” glasses and quiet, seemingly studious demeanor was a girl who couldn’t understand some of the most basic principles of math or science no matter how hard she tried. Her father was an engineering professor at the prestigious Defiance University in Twin Rivers. Her mother could probably do Nari’s homework in her sleep.

  Nari hated the thought of spending the rest of the weekend slamming her head against her desk in frustration, but that was her life.

  Her phone dinged from its place on her dresser. Raising one thin brow, her mother walked toward it, taking the phone in her small hand. Her eyes bounced between the words on the screen, because yes, it was unlocked. Nari, of course, wasn’t allowed a password that wouldn’t let her parents watch everything she did.

  “Peyton wants you to hang out today.” She met Nari’s gaze. “No phone. I’m taking this.”

  “Umma! I have to respond to her.”

  “You children. You always think everything needs to be so immediate. Peyton can wait. I want you dressed and in the kitchen. I’ve prepared several banchan for breakfast.”

  “Can I just have cereal instead?” She preferred the sugary breakfast she was allowed to eat during the week before school to a traditional Korean one.

  “No, you may not. Once you eat, you will practice piano before starting your studies.”

  Her mother left, and Nari fell back against her pillows. Piano to her mother meant difficult to play pieces from long-dead composers. Nari couldn’t tell her of the songs she played with the band that were a combination of rock and country. The kind of music that made her want to continue playing.

  But who was Nari kidding? Her life had never been her own. She dragged herself from bed and readied herself for another day of living for someone else.

  2

  Avery

  “You suck, St. Germaine!” Avery ducked the flying beer can as the disgruntled fans raced past him in the parking lot after the last game of the season.

  At least it’s over. That was the last high school game Avery would ever play. And the way he’d played it, it might be his last game, period. Not that he was even sure he wanted to play college football. It was always just a given that he would.

  “Ask your daddy to teach you how to throw the damn ball!”

  Avery St. Germaine, son of the NFL legend, Grayson St. Germaine—three-time Super Bowl champion—was not allowed to make mistakes on the field. But Avery single-handedly lost the final game of the playoffs in a bonehead move that was sure to end up on YouTube before the night was over. With only thirty seconds left in the game, Avery, the quarterback, had the ball on the fifteen-yard line at fourth down and three to go for a first down. The score was tied, but a touchdown would win it. It was an easy play, they had it in the bag, but Avery’s mind was already in the locker room celebrating. He threw the ball right into the hands of the defense linebacker when his own wide receiver was wide open just a few feet away. The linebacker ran the ball from the two-yard line all the way in for a touchdown just as the clock ticked down to zero. Game over and Avery was persona non grata in all of Twin Rivers, much to the amusement of the opposing team. His only excuse was the game was moving so fast he struggled to keep up.

  “You’ve gone viral, babe.” His long-time girlfriend, Meghan, leaned against his black Lexus sports car. She slipped her phone into the waistband of her cheer uniform, crossing her arms over her chest. Her disappointment was clear.

  “Don’t care.” Avery shoved his duffle into the trunk of his car and slammed it shut. He didn’t need to see internet videos of his screwup. His pop would see to it he never forgot.

  “Better luck next year, St. Germaine!” some grown-ass adult shouted across the emptying lot. “Oh, right, you’ll be in college… If any of them will have you!”

  “Don’t listen to them.” Meghan rolled her eyes. “You’re the guy, Ave.” She slipped her
arms around his waist. “The guy everyone wants to be. You’re a legacy in this town, and that’s what’s going to get us both out of here. We’ll recover from this once everyone remembers you have buckets of money and that pretty face.” She patted his cheek. She meant it to be a loving gesture, but Avery often found her attempts to boost his confidence condescending. Still, he cared about her a lot. Between them, they had dozens of friends, yet she was the only one here for him after a bad night.

  “We have a party to get to.”

  “Let’s not go tonight.” Avery’s shoulders slumped. He hated these parties. They were all the same drunken fests week after week. And they all reminded him of the night two years ago when he’d lost his best friend, Cooper. Avery had barely touched a drink since that night. Before then, he and Coop were the life of the party. But he’d never been able to recapture those glory days without his best friend.

  “We have to. Everyone expects us. There’s a reason they call us the golden couple of Twin Rivers High. And Ashley will be crushed if we aren’t there. Besides, I need my loyal DD.” She smiled, tugging him toward the car.

  Is that all I am to her? A designated driver with a great car and deep pockets? Oh wait…the pretty face too. Can’t forget that. Avery climbed into the driver’s seat. “I guess we’re going to a party. Again.”

  Meghan clapped her hands and slipped into the seat beside him. “Can we stop for burgers before? I haven’t eaten all day.”

  “Why do you do that?” Avery scowled at his girlfriend.

  “Do what?”

  “You never eat before a game. You know that’s messed up and really unhealthy, right?”

  “You try looking good in this scrap of fabric every week.” She pointed at her flat stomach. “It takes work to look like this, Avery.”

  “You know, wrestlers will fast all day and binge eat at night to bulk up. This starvation thing you do, it’s not doing what you think it’s doing. And it’s not going to make a difference in how you look, babe. You’re gorgeous no matter what.” And the hilarious part was he really meant it. Meghan was one of those girls who would always be beautiful no matter her size. It killed him to see her starving herself and skipping meals to force herself into some ideal mold no one could hope to maintain long-term. He wanted to love her. But sometimes she made it too damn hard.

  “Not all of us can eat five thousand calories a day and still look like a football god.”

  “You’re an athlete, Meghan. It wouldn’t hurt to study up on healthy diets.” Avery pulled into the drive-through wishing his car wasn’t so conspicuous. He nodded and waved to fans who had already shrugged off the loss, avoiding the angry stares of those who hadn’t.

  Avery fished out his wallet, once again more than a little irritated that Meghan never offered to pay for anything. He was happy to pay for things, but he didn't like how she just expected it. It wasn’t like she didn’t have her own money.

  “I’m freezing.” Meghan reached for the heat settings as she inhaled her burger. “Would you run into Walmart and get me a hoodie or something?”

  “I’ve got a hoodie in the trunk you can wear.”

  “Ew, no.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “It’s clean.”

  “It’s huge. I need something that actually fits, and the store is right across the parking lot. It’ll take you two minutes.”

  “Why didn’t you bring a coat?”

  “I forgot.”

  Avery tossed his half-eaten burger back in the bag and drove across the parking lot to Walmart. Without a word, he stepped out of the car to do her bidding.

  This relationship is so one-sided. How hadn’t he seen it before? Sure, she was quick to stroke his ego when he was down, but Meghan’s words were often empty. Especially when whatever Avery wanted differed from what she wanted. This is not how a relationship should work. It shouldn’t be this hard. Avery flipped through the rack of sweaters in the corner of the girls’ department, hoping no one would recognize him from his bonehead performance at the game tonight.

  He wanted his girlfriend to be the kind of person who could read his mood and understand when parties and drinking and stopovers at McDonalds and Walmart were the absolute last things he wanted to do on a night like this. Why couldn’t she see he needed a quiet night after a game? He was young and athletic, but when you were the star player on your team, football games could be exhausting.

  But Meghan never enjoyed quiet nights at home. She wanted to be the center of attention as often as possible, and when it was just the two of them, his attention wasn’t always enough.

  “I’m not doing this anymore,” he muttered as he used the self-checkout to purchase the thirty-five dollar hoodie. Thirty-five dollars? At Walmart? For something Meghan would wear one time.

  Avery marched out of the store, ignoring the stares and laughter that followed him. He tossed the bag in her lap.

  “Oh, this is so ugly,” Meghan whined.

  “It’s the only one they had in your size.”

  She shrugged into the sweater, complaining about how it clashed with her school colors.

  “It’ll keep you warm tonight.”

  “I’ll just return it tomorrow.” She fished the receipt out of the bag.

  Avery shook his head, knowing he’d never see that thirty-five dollars again.

  “I’m getting de-runk tonight.” Meghan sighed. “It’s been such a long week, and I’m exhausted from cheering all night on an empty stomach.”

  Avery pulled to a stop in front of Ashley’s house.

  “You can park around back,” Meghan said.

  “I’m not going in,” Avery said.

  “Yes, you are, Avery St. Germaine. After that shitty game you just lost, I am not going in there alone.”

  “No, Meghan. I’m going home.”

  “What are you, a coward?”

  “No. I’ve just had enough.”

  “What about me? What am I supposed to tell people?”

  “What about you, huh? That’s all you ever worry about, and I’m tired of it.”

  “What are you saying?” She glared at him.

  “I’m saying I’m done. We’re done. I’m tired of…” Avery rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m just not feeling it anymore, Meg.”

  “Are you for real? You’re breaking up with me?”

  “Yeah. I am. Go drink with your girls, and if you need a ride home, you can call me. I’d like to be friends, but I need this…relationship to be over.”

  “You don’t get to break up with me. I break up with guys like you.”

  “I think I just did.” Avery leaned over her to open the door. “I’m sorry, but you need to go.”

  “This isn’t over, Avery.” She stepped out of the car. “Not by a long shot.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find another pretty face with even deeper pockets in no time.”

  “You bastard!” Meghan screamed, slamming the door.

  Avery drove off feeling like he’d lost a hundred-and-five-pound noose around his neck.

  “What in the hell is he doing?” Avery parked his car in the rear driveway of the too large mansion he’d called home most of his life. The four-car garage was lit up like the Fourth of July, and the lights from the workshop flooded the lawn. “It’s almost midnight.” He sighed, letting his hands fall in his lap. The last thing he needed to deal with after the day he’d had was his drunk-ass excuse of a father.

  Horrible nineties alternative music blared from the speakers, nearly drowning out the sounds of the power tools coming from his father’s workshop. Avery jogged around to the back of the garage hoping his dad hadn’t injured himself.

  “What are you doing, Pop?” Avery shouted. “The neighbors are going to complain about the noise.”

  “What?” His dad whirled around, a beer in one hand and a length of oak plank wood in the other.

  Avery crossed the sawdust-covered floor to turn the music down. Grayson St. Germaine used to spend all of his free time in the
workshop, building the most beautiful things for their home. There was a time when Avery spent his weekends here, helping his pop—his hero and best friend. But that was a different world. One that didn’t exist anymore.

  “Avery, my boy!” A goofy grin spread across his father’s face. “That was some game you played tonight.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Can’t say I ever made a disgraceful play like that, but it happens. Chin up, kid. It’ll be old news in a week or two.”

  “Thanks, Pop.” He hadn’t seen happy-drunk-and-supportive Pop in a long time. He usually got mean-drunk-asshole Pop instead. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m building your mother some new shelves for the bedroom. Been promising her I’d do it, so no time like the present. Help your old man here a second.” He passed his empty beer bottle to Avery, turning to place the wooden plank across the custom-built table saw. Grayson stumbled over his own feet, and Avery rolled his eyes heavenward. It would be a miracle if they didn’t end up in the emergency room tonight.

  “Take it easy, Pop.”

  “Grab my pencil, would you?” He gestured at his paper-strewn desk in the corner. Avery slipped past the table saw, pocketing the safety key on his way to the desk.

  Angry Pop was a good two to three beers away so Avery still had time to make himself scarce; he just needed to make sure his father couldn’t do much damage on his own. He watched his pop attempt to handle the tape measure. He was shaky and awkward, not at all the confident craftsman he’d once been. With his pop’s attention on the table saw, Avery reached behind him to the breaker box, flipping the power switch that supplied the larger machines. “Found it, here’s your pencil.” Avery laid the flat carpenter’s pencil on the table saw.

  “Stay and chat with your ol’ pop.” Grayson gave up his futile fight with the tape measure in favor of another beer.

  “I’m really tired.” Avery stepped toward the door. “It was a tough game. I’m going to grab a shower and get some sleep, but I’d love to help you tomorrow.”