“Ah!”I screamed as my body hit the ground along with his. I rolled over to get up when I noticed Monk hadn’t moved to get up. The girls rushed over, hopping off their ponies.
“Is he alright?”
“Monk!” I shouted.
The very being who had never let me down wasn’t moving. Tears rolled down my face because there was no way I hadn’t seen the signs that something was wrong with him. My coach ran over to me.
“Phoebe, let’s get him some help.”
“Do something!” I shouted.
The on-site vet arrived and took one look at Monk’s face before yelling, “Let’s get him out of here.”
It felt like hours that they stood over my pony until they were able to get him off the field. I rushed to my car to follow behind them. This had never happened before. I knew he was getting older, but not old enough to just die on me. I couldn’t imagine riding a different pony in my games because we had been through the trenches together.
When we pulled up to Hilltop Stable, which my mother owned, they backed in and helped Monk out before gently placing him in the stable. My mother came from the other end with just as much worry in her face as I had. Another car pulled up, and a guy got out.
When my mother reached me, she hugged me. “They called me and told me what happened. I called Dr. Ivory. He will be able to tell us what’s going on.”
When he walked up, he stared at me weirdly. He looked so familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I had seen him before. In this space, I came across a lot of faces, so I may have seen him at a game, event, or even one of my parents’ parties.
While my mother went off to talk to the people who had transported Monk, Dr. Ivory continued to stare at me. “Do you know who I am?” he tried whispering.
I shook my head. “No, but I think I’ve seen you before.”
He was about to say something when he pulled his gaze away and glanced at my mother, who was coming back toward us.
“Dolly, where is he?”
My mother directed him to Monk. I hurried behind them and then stood there watching him work on my horse. Monk’s eyes said he was tired, and I knew this was probably the end.
“You need to do something. He’s all I have left of my brother. Do something!” I shouted.
My mother snapped my way. “Phoebe, go. I will let you know what he comes up with. You’re too upset in this moment.”
I took off my helmet and stormed away, tears streaming freely. My shoulders shook with sobs, and I struggled to breathe. I went into the restroom and collapsed while clutching my helmet, which accidentally struck the mirror, shattering it into tiny pieces. Blurry-eyed, I noticed a sharp fragment of glass on the floor. I bent down, picked it up, and examined it closely. Then I locked the restroom door, fumbled with my pants, and carefully pressed the glass to my upper thigh. I guided the sharp edge through my skin, breaking the surface, and slowly drew blood. The tears falling from my eyes kissed the blood, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I experienced a wave of pain.
“Phoebe!” I heard my mother call out.
I moved quickly, wiping the blood and trying to fix myself. Once I was done, I opened it to my mother’s concerned face. She glanced behind me. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
I sniffled. “If anything happens to him. Kyle and—”
She pulled me into a hug. “We all miss Kyle. I miss my baby deeply, but Monk is old. He has had his time, and—”
I cut her off as I pulled away from her. “What does that mean?”
She let out a disappointing sigh. “It means Monk can no longer play.”
My heart was broken. Everything I loved was slowly being taken from me. Who I was, my brother, and now Monk. I didn’t say anything as I walked past her and back to my car. I needed to get away from here because if I stayed, the memories I tried to forget wouldmake me do something I was scared of. Although in moments as deep as this, Syior would have usually been my go-to, he wasn’t the one I wanted to see.
PERCY
PRESS PLAY
I sat in my room staring at the ceiling. I was tired of studying, and for once, we didn’t have to do shit with the line... at least for now. I thought about going to the library to see Royce, but I was trying to control myself. Phoebe had cut a nigga off, and I was losing my mind. I called my Nan to check on my daughter, but she didn’t answer. I knew she would call me back at some point.
When the door opened to Xavier, the first thing that came in before him was the smell of weed. The shit smelled fyiah too. It had been a while since I put one to my lips, but with football, that shit was a no-go. Although there were players who smoked and found ways around getting caught, I wasn’t taking those chances because, of all people, it would be me who got caught.
